New, Civilised, Savage
by seerstella
Summary: Ralph, Percival, and Piggy are stranded in an uninhabited island, which probably isn't uninhabited at all. A LotF AU.
1. New Boys

Title: New, Civilised, Savage

Author: Seer M. Anno

Fandom: Lord of the Flies

Genre: AU

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this fandom except the story below. Please don't sue.

Rating: PG-15

Warnings: Language. Probably a bit OOC.

Summary: Ralph, Percival, and Piggy get stranded in an uninhabited island, which probably isn't uninhabited at all.

A/N: An AU fic which has been nagging in my mind for weeks. Beta'd by our dear Nightkill. Enjoy!

* * *

**New, Civilised, Savage**

**Lord of the Flies**

**Seer M. Anno**

* * *

_Chapter One: New Boys_

* * *

Ralph opened his eyes and saw whiteness around him. His body was heavy and wet. He propped himself on his hands and trembled when the cold breeze blew. His nose caught the smell of the salty ocean and he frowned.

"Hey, you're up!"

Ralph looked back and saw the fat boy he had conversed back in the plane (or more like the boy had practically forced him into a conversation), drenched to the bones like he was. He couldn't remember his name, but he told him he was called Piggy or something.

_The plane!_

Ralph rose abruptly, frantically. "Where are we?" he asked, panicking. The last thing he wanted was got stranded on an uninhabited island with a boring, fat kid with ass-mar.

"I don't know, Ralph."

A small sound beside Ralph startled him. A little boy with too much freckles on his face stared back at him worriedly. Ralph remembered him saying his address on their flight earlier.

Does this mean we're the only ones who survive? Ralph wondered. Well, at least it's better than stuck only with Piggy.

"What's your name?"

"Percival Wemys Madison. The Vicarage, Harcourt St. Anthony…"

Ralph paid him no heed as he continued to recite his address. He opened his school jacket and wrung it dry from the salty water. After he did the same to his white shirt, he looked at Piggy, who copied his actions.

"I don't think anyone lives here," Piggy said, helping Percival to stand. Ralph wrung out the little boy's shirt as well.

They decided to walk alongside the beach, not daring to wander into the forest yet. Percival was quickly worn out, so Ralph picked him up and carried him on his back. They had been walking for a while when Piggy shouted, pointing at something shiny.

"Look! It's a shell!"

Ralph dropped Percival from his back and took the shell from Piggy's hands. "I saw it on someone's back wall. A conch, he called it," Piggy babbled. "It's very valuable. My auntie said if you want to have one, you'd have to pay loads of pounds. Careful, you'll break it!"

The blond examined the conch carefully. His father once told him about something like this. It certainly did look expensive.

"You can blow it," Percival muttered between them.

"Yeah," Piggy agreed. "The one who has the conch blew it and his mum would come. I can't, Ralph. I have asthma."

"Sucks to your ass-mar," Ralph muttered. Percival grinned.

Piggy pretended not to hear the insult. "You can use it, Ralph!"

"What for?"

Percival seemed to understand what the fat boy meant. "Maybe we're not the only ones who are here," he said with his small voice. He bit his lip nervously. "You can call the others."

Ralph nodded. He stared at the conch for a bit before bringing it to his mouth and blowing on it. A loud voice was heard throughout the island, so loud that it startled Ralph. He never knew that small thing could make such a noise.

"You did it!" Percival and Piggy cheered.

Then they went silent. Their eyes widened when they heard voices. Suddenly, people emerged out the forest and crowded them. Their faces were unrecognizable, but they looked so violent. Colours covered their faces and they brought something in their grips.

There were screams and then everything went dark.

* * *

So, what do you think? I know it's short but it makes a good opening. :)


	2. Savages

_Chapter Two: Savages_

* * *

"He's waking up."

"Good."

"His friends are waking up, too."

"Let them."

"But, Chief..."

"This one blew the bloody conch. Now stop talking or I'll have your head for the Beast."

"Alright, Chief."

When Ralph opened his eyes, pain was the first thing he felt. His hands were tied behind his back, and he was tied to a tree. There were blurry shapes of people near him. He blinked. As his vision became clearer, it shocked him to the core to see those 'people' were actually two kids around his own age.

He coughed to catch their attention. The boys looked at him, and the small limit of sunray showed him those faces were painted in clay and something else... blood?

The dark boy who wore a bone necklace was tall, had piercing brown eyes and coarse black hair. Behind him, there was a blond boy, a bit chubby below those atrocious face paints, staring nervously at the taller one. The black-haired boy surely was the Chief.

"A newcomer?" the chief asked, kneeling in front of Ralph.

Ralph could do nothing but to nod. He couldn't stare at the chief's eyes, so he looked around. There were Piggy and Percival, tied on two other trees, still unconscious. He braved himself to look at the chief again.

"It's truly a pleasure to see new faces around. I'm starting to get bored with only those kids here," the chief said quietly, but his eyes belied his words. An evil smirk crossed his face. "Why did you blow that conch?"

"I don't know," Ralph said truthfully. "We found it and my friend said it could be blown, so I did. Why?"

"It's forbidden."

"Why?" Ralph repeated his question, curiosity peeking in.

The chief glared at him as he stood. "Because it'll wake the Beast."

Ralph just wanted to ask what beast, but the chief had walked away from him, stopped a while to whisper something to the blond boy. The blond boy took something from the ground and slowly made his way towards Ralph. The thing, which happened to be a 'spear' (or, in other words, just a sharpened stick) was used to release his restraints.

"What's your name?" he whispered.

"Call me Ralph." Somehow, he didn't want to tell the other his surname. "Yours?"

"Eric."

When Eric didn't elaborate, Ralph asked him the most obvious question. "Was that your Chief?"

Eric nodded. "His name's Roger," he whispered. "Don't tell anyone I said that."

Ralph blinked in confusion. He wanted to ask why but Eric suddenly fled, and he wondered why he ran away. The blond didn't dare to follow, afraid if he would get lost.

A while later, Eric was back with three coconuts and another boy who looked just like him. Ralph blinked again. _A twin?_

"I'm Sam," the other boy introduced himself with a low voice. His face was painted differently than his brother's. "We're Samneric."

And then they started to complete each other's words.

"These—"

"Are—"

"For—"

"You."

Ralph took the coconuts, smiling gratefully at them. "Thanks a lot."

The twins blinked nervously but nodded. Silence cloaked them. But then a small cough and a word broke it.

"Ralph?"

Ralph snapped his head back and saw Piggy and Percival, struggling in their restraints. Samneric glanced at each other before they released the other boys. Ralph gave them the fruit and let the twins opened it with their spears.

"You two are so young," he said. "Bet you're younger than me."

"We—"

"Don't—"

"Know—"

"Ralph."

"Surely you're younger than me," Piggy joined in. "How old are you?"

"We—"

"Don't—"

"Know."

Ralph and Piggy stared at each other. How is this possible?

"At least you're older than me," Percival said innocently, smiling at them. They smiled back, the relief in their eyes was evident.

"How long have you been here?" Ralph asked.

"We—"

"Don't—"

"Know—"

"Ralph."

Ralph and Piggy's confusion silenced them. They continued to sit in the slowly darkening forest.

* * *

Samneric took the newcomers into a clearing in the middle of the forest. Their eyes widened when they saw another boys lounging around the fire. They never thought there would be more children stranded in this place.

A dark boy who reminded Ralph to Roger the Chief approached them. He looked older than Samneric, and he had hair and eyes like Roger. The difference was the dreamy glint in those brown eyes. As if he didn't care of anything. His face was painted, but not as much as the twins.

Samneric looked at the dark boy before they went away. The boy's grin widened when he saw them. Ralph wondered why he was so happy. He eyed the boy suspiciously.

He was shocked when the boy pointed at his school jacket, which he had worn before they went to the clearing.

"It's very good," the boy said dreamily. "To see someone our age wearing school jacket."

Piggy snorted and Ralph stared at him questioningly. Percival was different, though. He stared at the boy with sudden admiration. "I love school jackets too!" he said.

The dark boy eyed him kindly. "Really?" he asked, crouched in front of the little boy. "I'm glad someone likes it too." His eyes darkened. "Nobody shares my enthusiasm."

Percival smiled in sympathy and sat down. Ralph and Piggy, who started to feel uncomfortable, sat down as well.

"It's been a long time," the boy said dreamily, not exactly meeting their eyes. "Since we saw someone wearing shirts and school jackets. I'm glad we share the same thing, right... em..."

"Percival Wemys Madison. The Vicarage.…"

Ralph rolled his eyes in exasperation. But the boy waited patiently until Percival was done telling him his complete address. "I'm Simon." And for the first time, he stared at Ralph and Piggy. "And you two...?"

"I'm Ralph."

"I'm..."

Piggy's words were cut by a loud cheer from the middle of the clearing. They looked at the source of voice and saw Roger emerged from his seat, a huge rock under a tree. His face glowed from the light of the fire.

"Listen up!" he said with his usual husky voice. "We have newcomers here."

The crowd of painted children cheered once again. Roger glared at some of them, and they started to nudge each other. Almost immediately they were silent.

"Good." Roger took his spear and walked towards Ralph. The blond newcomer's eyes widened when he saw something else in his grip. The white conch.

"Why did you take that?" Piggy asked, not caring at Roger's sharp glare. "We found them!"

"And?" Roger asked nastily. "We're here first and that's actually ours."

"How can that become yours?" Piggy retorted with his odd accent. "We even didn't know you were here!"

Suddenly Roger launched himself to him, his sharpened end of his spear dangerously close to Piggy's fat neck. "Say another word about this thing being yours," Roger spat. "And I'll cut your throat, Fatty."

Ralph was so shocked he blurted out something really out of topic. "It's not Fatty, it's Piggy!"

Roger looked at him, and Ralph was relieved to see approval in those brown eyes. The chief snorted and all of them began to laugh. Roger rose, clutching his spear. "At least this _Piggy_ seems to understand."

Roger flashed a small smile at Ralph and the blond was relieved. _Maybe they weren't as bad as they looked_.

* * *

A/N: I know Ralph's kinda weird, but he just wants Roger's approval. It's much cooler than Piggy's, right? :)

And look, it's Simon! :D


	3. Easier Access and the Beast

_Chapter Three: Easier Access and the Beast_

* * *

When it was time to go to sleep, Ralph was shocked to see they just laid down on their spot in the clearing and sleep. He surely wouldn't sleep a wink if he had to.

"Do you make any shelter?"

"For what?" a bigger boy than him answered. His name was Maurice - or something like that. "We don't need any."

Ralph frowned when he heard the rumbling sound of thunder. "But it'll rain soon."

Maurice shrugged, ignorant. Ralph looked up at the sky. Clouds covered the moon, darkening his surroundings. He looked around and saw a bunch of leaves and unused branches. Maybe this can be my shelter for a while.

"What is it, Ralph?"

Ralph looked back and saw a still-ashen Piggy. He was much subdued than before, and finally knew when to keep his mouth shut. Maybe how Roger controlled him before was right after all. Ralph was pretty sure he'd never be able to stand Piggy.

"I need a shelter. It's going to rain."

Before Piggy had any time to answer, Percival came bouncing toward them, school jacket gone. "Hello," he said innocently. "Do you mind if I sleep with Simon tonight?"

Ralph frowned. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

"I just want you to know," Percival said, smiling shyly. "You two are like grownups for me."

Ralph nodded absently, his mind still working at the problem at hand. After Percival left, he approached the bunch of leaves and slowly worked for his own shelter.

He was oblivious at several pairs of eyes staring at him in disapproval. A pair of brown eyes flashed in mixture of anger and something else that nobody could name.

* * *

Days passed. Piggy quickly became an outcast, and was often bullied by Roger and the other biguns. But once when the chief and his tribe went off hunting and leaving some littleuns behind, Piggy sat on the ground and told them stories.

The littleuns adored Piggy, at least when Roger and the biguns weren't around.

Ralph was practically glued to Samneric, since they were the ones who found them. They were silent, and they didn't seem to remember their hometown. Judging from their accents, they were English, just like Ralph himself.

One time, the twins were assigned to light the fire. There would be a feast. They sat and started to rub two sticks together. The woods were a bit damp since it had been raining yesterday.

"Wouldn't it take ages if you do that?" Ralph asked. "The wood's a bit damp."

Samneric nodded. "But—"

"We're—"

"Fine—"

"With—"

"This."

Ralph tsked and looked at a certain corner of the clearing. Piggy was entertaining the remaining littleuns with stories from his hometown. His glasses flashed from the sunlight. Ralph blinked as the idea hit him.

He rushed into the small crowd and hastily took Piggy's specs. The littluns gasped and Piggy shrieked. "My specs!" he cried.

"Won't be long," Ralph assured the startled boy. He ran back to the middle of the clearing and squatted in front of the woods. He moved the lens back and forth, and almost immediately there was a small wisp of smoke. Sam knelt and blew it gently, and slowly the smoke thickened and a tiny flame appeared.

Samneric cheered.

"Burning—"

"Glasses!"

The littleuns rushed towards them, leaving the still troubled Piggy. "A fire!"

"A fire this fast!"

"Wizard!"

"Wacco!"

"Whee!"

Ralph stood up, blinking. He wasn't proud of what he had done, not at all. It was just a fire after all. Have these kids got their science lesson already?

"This—"

"Is—"

"Amazing!"

"Thanks, Ralph!" a littleun smiled at him. Below those face paints he was actually cute, and his smile reminded Ralph to someone whose name he couldn't remember. Too bad his hair was brown.

"I still can't see!" a voice startled them. "Where are you guys?"

Ralph rushed towards the fat boy and shoved the specs into Piggy's vision. "What have you done?" he asked.

Ralph gestured at the fire. "It seems your specs just became a hero."

* * *

The evening came slowly.

When the chief and his lot came back, carrying the pig with them, they were gobsmacked at the sight of the littleuns cheering around the fire. Roger's eyebrow lifted slightly. He never expected the fire to be lit this fast. Those useless twins usually needed ages to light a small fire.

"What did I miss?" Robert commented, smiling. He was the only hunter that was warm enough towards the littleuns.

"Ralph made the fire!" a littleun cheered.

"He used the fat boy's specs!" the other followed.

Roger nodded in understanding. "Good job," he said emotionlessly, almost coldly, at Ralph.

Ralph merely nodded, overjoyed but slightly unnerved by the cold compliment. Roger turned and walked away to cut the pig for their feast. A littleun sneezed near him. Ralph, back to the reality, tsked and took him to his shelter.

_Probably I have to make shelters for them_, he thought bitterly. _A boy has a cold since he slept under a tree when rain comes. No wonder._

"Ralph?"

"Hm?" Ralph sat down on the sand in front of the only shelter, Piggy crouched next to him.

"Where are Percival and Simon?"

* * *

Percival and Simon were two excluded adventurers. Both of them were outsiders, and Percival couldn't get along with kids his own age, since he was new and still civilised. When the littleuns talked about killing a pig, Percival couldn't relate. He was allergic to candies, and that was what Piggy told them about all the time. The littleuns loved candies, which Percival had no idea about. To make long story short, he couldn't make friends with them.

Simon was 'barmy'. Nobody could understand him. He always saw things from the other perspective, and for that Roger couldn't stand him. He was the only one that didn't want to be face painted, but after two days of starvation and torture, he finally gave in. Robert, who did the face painting, pitied him, though. He didn't paint Simon's face as much as he did the other boys. And he was so bloody quiet that nobody could get along with him well.

"Why aren't you going hunting?" Percival asked, breaking Simon's train of thoughts.

Simon looked at him like a brother looked at his baby sibling. Percival wasn't cute, he was rather ugly (that was a very bad word indeed) under those freckles and his wavy hair. But his eyes shone in innocence, which Simon hadn't seen in the other boys' eyes for a long time. "I faint all the time."

They were sitting in the middle of the forest, near the place where Percival had been captured. It was getting darker, and cold wind started to blow. Percival tightened his school jacket. He looked at the other boy, and mentally kicked himself for not borrowing Ralph's jacket. It would fit Simon's body so he wouldn't get cold.

"I'm okay." Simon assured him gently. "I like the wind breeze. The fire's a bit too hot for me."

"Let's go back," Percival suggested. It was getting darker, and the little boy didn't want to trip in the creepers (like what Piggy said) or get lost or something worse.

"Just sit here for a while, okay?"

Percival reluctantly obeyed. He started to whine. "But it's getting…"

"Ssh. Listen." Simon gripped his wrist.

Percival wanted to object, but Simon's grip was unusually tight. So he sat and was silent. He knew his new friend was batty, but he never thought Simon would listen to voices he couldn't be heard. He knew there would be silence. Only silence.

But he was wrong.

It was quiet, but someone was obviously singing.

_Hosana Meus _  
_ Fortuna Deus_

Percival was so shocked he couldn't speak. Simon lulled his head to the side, obviously enjoying the beautiful voice from nowhere. The breeze took the voice to their place, making it louder.

_ Aeterna Teus _  
_ Mystre, Morte, Sancte Pior_

"It's my favourite song," Simon whispered. "We used to sing it together."

Percival was frightened. Petrified, even. Maurice's words echoed in his mind. The bigun had said that the day after he arrived, and it stayed in the little boy's mind.

_The Beast sometimes sings. Its voice will be as desperate as an abused wife. Our Chief doesn't want someone to hear it. It'll be dangerous. So don't come near the Beast's lair._

He looked for a way of escaping. But Simon's hand gripped him so hard he felt his wrist would break.

_ Fortuna hosana deus _  
_ Legionus ab comae_

Simon started to hum the song absentmindedly. Percival, panicked, shook the other boy's shoulder hard enough to snap him out.

"Ow!" Simon frowned at him. He blinked as if he hadn't seen Percival all this time. "What is it?"

"It's the beastie!" Percival said frantically.

Simon's face was expressionless. He stood, rather abruptly. "Come on," he said. "We have to go back."

Percival, stunned at the sudden change, obeyed. The voice was still there, but it wasn't as loud as it had been before. Maybe they were just imagining it.

_Fortune fortuna equis _  
_ Ad pugnatoris in veritae_

They arrived to the clearing soon enough. But before Percival had a chance to join Ralph and the others, Simon pulled him to the side. "There's no such thing as the Beast," the dark boy whispered. He sounded so bloody _creepy_. "Maybe it's only us."

And then Simon pulled away, watching Percival joined the other littluns. He began to hum the song as he watched the others dancing and eating. His mind was driven somewhere else, as usual. And as usual, nobody cared.

* * *

A/N: It's supposed to be finished in 17th August, but it was my country's 67th Independence Day. And something big happened, so I just couldn't write. I strained my right arm the day before so I couldn't play the piano, let alone type. Sad. D:

The song is Preliator by Globus. It just sounds so great! ^^

If anyone has any suggestion for choir songs, feel free to give me the title and the link by dropping a review. :)


	4. Ralph Wants to Fix Everything

_Chapter Four: Ralph Wants to Fix Everything_

* * *

Ralph was frustrated. Another littleun had a cold, and the biguns didn't seem to care. He was caring towards little kids, since he was an only child in his family. Maybe he could make other shelters they could sleep in.

And for that, he needed help.

"Piggy, can you help me?"

Piggy looked up, his eyes kind. Ralph was hit by sudden guilt. He wanted to apologise, but he found himself speechless. Instead of apologising, he blurted out, "Making shelters for them, I mean."

The fat boy sighed. "I wish I could help," he said apologetically. "But you know I can't build anything like that because of my asthma."

Ralph wanted to snort, but managed not to. Piggy was useless indeed. Other than being the littleuns' babysitter, nothing more he could do.

"But you can ask Simon," Piggy continued. He suddenly pointed at some biguns who were slacking. Roger was nowhere to be seen, since today wasn't their hunting day. "Or maybe them."

Ralph looked at Simon and Percival who were drawing Ralph's and Percival's school badges from their jackets on the soil. They will do, he thought. So, he approached them, squatting in front of their drawings and smiling.

"Nice drawings," he complimented. "What's on with these drawing badges? Being nostalgic?"

Percival beamed and Simon smiled. "We just miss our schools." Simon said. "Mine was a good place."

"You still remember your school?" Ralph asked incredulously. Nobody in here seemed to remember anything from their hometown. Even nobody remembered their ages, their bloody ages, for the Queen's sake!

Simon shook his head, much to Ralph's dismay. "I just know it was a good place."

"I see." Ralph said, not seeing any chance to elaborate the conversation. "Well, I have something in my mind, can you two help me?"

* * *

By the time the third battered shelter was up, Ralph, Simon, and Percival were exhausted. They laid on the clearing, sweat covering the inch of their body. Simon was so sweaty his paints melted from his body. As for Ralph and Percival, they were so hot their shirts were glued to their bodies.

Turned up asking the biguns for help had been useless. Maurice sneered and Henry even threw rocks at them. Ralph was enraged, but he didn't dare to say anything. They were bigger than him, and he was only a new kid. Although that, he was confused why they didn't like him making things for them. Those shelters could be used for their own good as well.

Only Robert who seemed wanting to help, but his friends pulled him away from them and they walked into the forest, leaving them. Some littleuns followed them, maybe because they liked Robert. He was the only bigun nice to them, after all.

It was the time Roger walked back from nowhere. He looked at the shelters, at the three panting kids, and at last rested at the fat slug who was entertaining the remaining littleuns with stories about God-knows-what. His gaze was back at the shelters, and his face grew hotter. His mind played a certain memory that enraged him. A voice that wasn't his own flared up the fury in his insides.

_We'll have fun! We need shelters, of course, but it's not our priority! Now, time to have fun!_

Without anyone stopping him, Roger was standing on the place where one of the shelters had been. The remains of the shelter, a bunch of leaves and some sticks, were flat under his naked feet. He blinked and that was the time he realised that he had destroyed the shelter.

"Hey!"

Roger felt someone grabbed his shoulder. Unfortunately, he wasn't holding his spear, or the person would be dead by now. He turned back, still furious.

"What on earth have you done?!" Ralph's eyes were shining in fury. He glared at Roger for several minutes before saying, "We've done that for ages! And now you just came and stepped on it!"

Roger could hear the ugly new kid was sobbing, and the barmy Simon was trying to calm him down. From the other side of the clearing he could feel the fat slug's and the littleuns' stares stabbed onto his back.

"Why did you make them anyway?" he hissed. He always hissed when he was furious.

"Because we need them!" Ralph snarled. "We can't just sleep on the clearing, or under a tree when the rain comes!"

Roger shoved him away. The blond shoved him back.

Ralph's lips suddenly curled into a sneer. "I bet you don't know those little boys are getting sick, do you?" he said. "What kind of chief are you?"

Roger's eye twitched as the other memory emerged.

You can't be chief!

That was the last bloody straw. Roger growled and shoved Ralph so hard the latter was thrown onto the ground. "It's good for you since I'm unarmed," he hissed. "Or else… your soul will be in Hell right now, along with the Beast."

And with that the dark boy rushed into the forest once again, leaving the other boys behind.

* * *

Ralph was still stunned about what had happened. Piggy helped him to stand, but nobody said anything.

"What's on with this Beast?" he asked, frustrated. "Everyone just can't stop talking about it!"

A littleun jumped to him and covered his mouth in fright. Ralph fell onto his back in surprise. "Don't say that!"

The other littleuns rushed to his side, Piggy followed. Ralph shook the littleun who covered his mouth so hard it hurt. They were shaking. "What is it?"

And then they started shouting words.

"The beastie!"

"It's a snake-thing!"

"No! It's probably a bear!"

"Maybe a lion!"

"No lions are here," Piggy interrupted, being the know-it-all again. Ralph resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The littleuns didn't seem to care either.

"It's big!"

"It has scary voice!"

"The Chief says not to come close!"

"It has taken the hunters' first pig's head!"

After the littleuns stopped screaming their lungs out, and Percival had stopped crying—he merely stared at the boys like they had three heads or something—Simon coughed to catch their attention. He made it, though. Ralph and the others looked at him as if he hadn't been there.

The dark boy shot them a lopsided, dreamy, Simon-like smile. As usual, he didn't meet anyone's gaze. "Maybe there's no beast. Maybe it's only us."

* * *

"Maybe there's no beast. Maybe it's only us."

The chief refrained himself for entering the clearing when he heard the batty boy's words. His cheeks burnt in indescribable emotion. His hand automatically flew onto his bone necklace, and he winced.

"Should've killed that batty kid long ago," he muttered to himself.

But a certain memory emerged. He remembered exactly what had happened. They were in the beach. They were sitting in an irregular shape of a circle, and Simon was standing in the middle of them. He was holding something, a sign that someone had the authority to speak up.

_ Maybe there's no beast. Maybe it's only us._

The chief remembered how he rose from his seat so abruptly his legs almost protested.

_ Who cares at this barmy little slug?_

He remembered the calm, but still containing power and irritation, voice.

_ I don't really care of the Beast. We can have fun, for all that bloody beast care!_

With that memory still nagging in his mind, he rushed back into the forest, knowing exactly where to go. From the distant, he could hear the blond newcomer asking for the littleuns' help of making shelters.

_ Bloody hell. That newcomer's trying to fix everything. To make everything civil._

The chief kept running. He arrived on the certain hill and climbed it in a lightning speed. When he reached the top, he approached a tree and sat under it, leaning against a cave.

The cave was sealed shut, and it was silent. The chief smiled. That was all he needed right now.

* * *

A/N: I'm back! Happy to see me? I went to my mom's hometown and my a-week holiday is going to an end! SAAAD! And happy belated Ied Mubarak to those who celebrate! :)


	5. A Certain Thing

_Chapter Five: A Certain Thing  
_

* * *

They had run out of meat, so it was the time for hunting again. The biguns had eyed the shelters oddly, but said nothing against it. For that Ralph was relieved. The last thing he needed was someone destroying things he and the littleuns had done. Making those shelters had been so bloody difficult.

Roger didn't say anything against it as well. To be precise, he didn't say anything at all. The littleuns were scared, they had told Piggy who told Ralph. But Ralph paid him no heed.

"Do you see Simon?"

Ralph looked up to see Percival, who looked more than worried. "Maybe he's with Roger."

A littleun shushed him. "Don't say his name!"

Ralph frowned at him but didn't say anything. He turned to Percival instead.

"He doesn't hunt," Percival said eventually. "He says he faints all the time."

But then a flash of dark hair appeared to the clearing, and Percival rushed towards Simon in relief. "I'm scared you'll be taken by the Beast!" he shrieked.

Simon merely chuckled as his hand stroked the boy's hair. "Robert just painted me. I'm okay."

Ralph jumped up when he realised what Simon was wearing. "Why are you wearing my jacket?" he asked, tugging at the piece of clothing. Its sleeve was torn a bit, and Ralph didn't like seeing that.

Simon eyed him apologetically. "I like this. Can I keep it?"

Ralph huffed but stayed silent. He didn't need it anyway, it was too hot to even wear his white shirt. "Fine. Take it. But don't tear it apart."

"Thanks, Ralph."

Simon walked towards his shelter but then he stopped. He looked back at the blond, remembering the message Robert had given him. "Ralph, the chief and the biguns are up the hill. You and Piggy probably want to see them."

And then he walked into the shelter, leaving the confused boys behind. Ralph looked at the direction of the hill. He knew where it was, but he wondered how he could get there. He was afraid he would get lost.

"Can someone be our guide?" he heard Piggy ask. He knew the fat boy was as curious as he was. Both were wondering what Roger and his lot needed from them.

A littleun named Stanley and Samneric walked forward. "I can help," the little boy said. "Robert has showed me the way."

"Sometimes we—"

"Go to the hill—"

"So we—"

"Can help you."

"Good," Ralph said. "Thanks. We better get going."

Then they went, leaving the littleuns alone. Piggy's distant voice was heard as he asked worriedly about his ass-mar when climbing the hill, but Ralph assured him he would be okay. The littleuns were back in their usual chattering, reciting one of Piggy's stories about his candy shop.

In a certain shelter, Simon pulled off Ralph's school jacket. He flipped it and his mouth curled into a broad smile. His smile grew even wider as his fingers traced Ralph's full name sewed there.

"Well, isn't this unexpected?" he muttered to himself.

* * *

Stanley finally managed to get the others to the hill. Samneric was meant to show them the way as well, but they had ended up helping Ralph. The blond and the twins practically pulled Piggy up the hill.

On the top of the hill, there was a bunch of wood collected in the middle of it. Henry and three other biguns stood around a dead pig, which looked completely repulsive. Roger sneered when they arrived but stayed silent.

"Took you long enough," Maurice drawled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

There was silence, until suddenly Henry pointed at Piggy.

"What are we waiting for?! His specs!"

Ralph was grateful he didn't stand near Piggy, since the boy was ambushed from all sides. Roger snatched Piggy's specs and rushed back to the bunch of woods.

"My specs! What have you done?! Not again!"

But nobody cared. Roger squatted in front of the fire and managed to light it again. They, plus Ralph, cheered and Roger almost threw the specs to the ground in enthusiasm. Eric caught them and shoved them to Piggy's trembling hands. "Here."

Piggy stumbled with his specs. After he managed to wear it, his eyes widened when he saw the fire on the hill. He looked around and saw the ocean. His gaze fell to the fire once again. Then an idea popped in his head. He smiled inwardly.

When Roger walked back to the dead pig, Ralph's curiosity kicked in. He followed and saw the boy squatted in front of it and pulled out a knife from his battered pants.

The blond gaped. Blurry memories from his childhood came crushed to him.

_Ralph, look!_

_ What is it?_

_ Ssh, don't be too loud._

_ You stole it!_

_ No, I borrowed it. See?_

_ Dad says it's sharp!_

_ So don't to touch this side. Look, it's his names._

_ It's so short._

_ He says it's his initials. So of course it's short._

"Ralph?" he heard Stanley called.

Ralph snapped out his reverie. "C-can I...?"

Roger looked up and frowned when he saw where Ralph was pointing. "What?"

"I think I know that knife..." Ralph said absently.

"Nonsense." The chief answered a bit too quickly as he continued cutting the pig. He ignored Ralph completely afterwards. He looked up at Henry and Maurice. "Share this with those littleuns. And then go back here."

"Alright, Chief."

The two painted biguns took the part of the pig, a lit stick, and rushed down.

Ralph was still stunned when Roger folded the knife and put it in his pocket. The dark boy shoved him in his way down the hill. "We'll have feast here today."

Maybe I'm wrong, Ralph thought. He looked around to distract himself. But then his thoughts flew to the knife once again. He stared at the sky.

How can I be wrong?

He wondered why the knife looked as same as the one he remembered. He couldn't remember the other kid from his childhood. But, as he looked at the chief and his lot, he knew that Roger wasn't him.

Or her.

Whatever.

A chunk of meat landed on his head, shocking him. "Eat, damn you!" Roger snarled. The biguns laughed.

Ralph, who was shocked and felt humiliated, took the meat and threw it at their direction. "I won't until y'all learn how to be give people food decently!" he shrieked and rushed down the hill in anger. Piggy followed, since he hadn't been given the meat by them because he didn't hunt, much to his protest. Stanley and Samneric followed as well, a small chunk of meat in their hands.

The biguns' laughs became louder. Nobody realised there were small voices from a certain, unnoticed cave near them.

* * *

A/N: Just a short filler. Why I post so fast? Because tomorrow is Monday, and I'll go to school. I'm afraid I won't have time to post. I hate Mondays. :(

And Simon knows something we don't! Isn't that usual? :D


	6. Percival Wemys Madison, the Savage

_Chapter Six: Percival Wemys Madison, the Savage  
_

* * *

Ralph became the biguns' source of amusement since then, along with Piggy of course. They called him 'The Uptight'. It didn't sound so bad, but they said the name like it was poison or something. Ralph tried hard to ignore them, but it got into his head anyway.

Even with that, no littleun disrespected them. They still adored Piggy and looked up at Ralph. Maybe because Ralph still helped them and Piggy still had his stories about his hometown and his auntie's candy shop.

Percival Wemys Madison, however, had his own story. The littleuns had started to accept him, but didn't try to engage him in a conversation. When he wasn't out with Simon, going God-knows-where, he would sit down in the back of the group, listening to Piggy's stories in a weirdly absent maner.

This picked out Roger's interest, who had been a silent observer all the time. He knew how it felt to be unaccepted. He had endured it almost all his lifetime. Being chief was the best way for him to be accepted. He knew not everyone liked him, but he didn't care. He played with his bone necklace, lost in thoughts for a while.

Back to Percival. Roger had another reason, though. He had once encountered Simon and Percival. The batty boy had fainted as usual, and a rather big branch pinned his legs. Percival had managed to lift it alone, much to Roger's surprise.

_That kid's stronger than those useless kids_, he thought. _He has to be in the lot. Maybe he can hunt._

"Maurice," he called. His right hand man snapped his head back at him.

"Yes, Chief?"

"You know the newcomers' names?"

Maurice looked up to the sky and recited their names. "The fat boy's Piggy, the uptight blond one's Ralph, and the small kid's Percival."

"That one," Roger flicked his fingers. "Call Percival. I need to talk to him."

Maurice nodded and he was gone. The bigun smiled to himself. He knew what was going to happen.

* * *

When Maurice arrived on the clearing, there was nothing special. He spotted Percival almost immediately. The little boy was still wearing his battered shirt and he sat together with Simon. The barmy boy was telling him story, probably as batty as he was. He used his hands to tell his story, and Percival was laughing.

He approached them as soon as possible. Several littleuns were playing in the clearing, and Piggy was talking to Ralph. Maurice paid them no heed.

He crouched next to Percival and Simon. "The Chief wants to talk to you," he said, didn't even glance at Simon.

"Really?" Percival's eyes lit up in excitement. Maurice immediately knew that this boy wanted to be approved by their chief, just like all the other littleuns. "See you, Simon!" He took Maurice's hand and they left.

Behind them, Simon's face darkened.

* * *

Maurice didn't say anything in their walk to the other side of the island, but Percival couldn't shut his mouth. He told Maurice everything, his name, his address (although he stumbled when he recited his telephone number), and everything Simon and he had shared together.

To say Maurice wasn't impressed was an understatement. It had been a long time since someone talked to him and didn't care if he didn't respond. Percival's voice somehow comforted him. Even if he talked about crappy topics like school jackets and his address.

"Where are we?" Percival asked worriedly. "The Chief says not to go to the beach."

"It's okay. And this is the biguns' fort. No littleuns are allowed to go here." Maurice finally answered. "We call it..."

"Maurice."

Roger, much to Maurice's surprise, was waiting under the passage to Castle Rock. Usually he waited up there, and Maurice had to carry the boy on his back as he climbed the rocks. "I'll talk to him. Not you."

Maurice blushed and left them, climbing his way up the Castle Rock. After a while climbing, he sat on a steady rock and watched the dark boy and the littleun. He knew what Roger would do. He closed his eyes and wondered since when they had slipped into savagery like this.

* * *

"That shirt."

"What's about this?" Percival asked. "This is my school shirt and I like it."

"It's hideous."

Roger and Percival were walking along the beach. The freckled boy scowled.

"It's nice!"

"Take it off," Roger said threateningly. "I _don't _like it."

Hearing the superiority in the chief's voice made Percival automatically, reluctantly, obeyed. Roger flashed a small smirk at him, his painted face made him twice scarier.

"I see you don't have any friends."

"I have!" Percival objected. "There's Ralph! And... er... Piggy! And Simon too!"

Roger rolled his eyes. "They are not your friends," he said bitterly, unconsciously reopening the old pain of his. "Ralph's too busy to even look at you. He looks at you only when he needs your help with those bloody shelters, right? That fat Piggy has the littleuns to entertain with his stories. And who cares about Simon? He never cares about anyone. He's _cracked_."

Percival's jaw trembled. Roger snorted when he knew he had hit the nerve. "No crying," he said harshly. "I don't like seeing crybabies."

"B-but..." the boy stuttered. "They are so kind to me. Simon..."

"Stop talking about that kid!" Roger finally lost his patience. "I know he has been taking you around the forest, showing you what's inside his cracked mind!"

"I..."

"Listen," Roger said. "What that barmy boy has showed you, it's mostly wrong."

Percival trembled. He remembered Simon and him, when they heard the Beast singing. "Th-then what should I do?" he asked softly.

Roger smiled when he realised he had the upper hand. He automatically remembered a certain boy around his age, who had unconsciously taught him how to be persuasive. It went along with his sadistic traits.

"There are kids your age. You're stronger than them, you're better."

"But they don't like me!"

"Oh, they do," Roger assured him. "You only lack something."

"What is it?" Percival eyed him with teary eyes.

Roger didn't answer. Instead he jumped up, carrying Percival's shirt. He tore it in two and threw the other one towards the ocean.

"What are you doing?!" the boy shrieked.

Roger didn't say anything. He whistled and all the biguns rushed down Castle Rock. They came down immediately and made a circle around Percival. Roger smiled wickedly. Samneric and the littleuns had gone through this before, and all of them knew what to do.

"What's your name?" the dark boy started, shouting loudly.

Percival eyed him oddly. "Percival Wemys Madison. The Vicarage, Hartcourt St. Anthony..."

"SHUT UP!" all of them shrieked. Percival automatically closed his mouth in fright and surprise.

There was silence for a while. After that, Henry broke it. He took a small stone and threw it Percival's direction. It hit Percival's back and he snapped his head to look at the bigun.

"What's your name?" Henry asked.

Percival looked at him, his eyes flashed in fright. "Percival Wemys Madison. The Vic..."

"SHUT UP!" the biguns shouted, banging their sticks to the sand.

"What's your name?" Douglas asked.

Percival started to tremble. "Percival Wemys Madison. The Vicar..."

"SHUT UP!"

"What's your name?" Maurice asked. His voice was a bit unsure, since he was a bit reluctant of bullying this new boy.

Percival trembled, not wanting to answer. He started to sob.

"ANSWER HIM!" Roger roared.

"P-percival... Wem-wemys M-madison. The..."

"SHUT UP!"

"What's your name?" Harold asked, sneering.

Percival managed to clear his voice. "Percival Wemys Madison..."

"SHUT UP!"

They repeated their words again and again. In the end Percival had broken down crying, stammering only his first name. They had ordered him to shut up when he was going to say his middle name. The biguns found excitement with this twisted activity. They banged their spears and cheered as they repeated their question.

"Enough!" Roger shouted, seeing Percival in something resembled satisfaction. The biguns were silent almost immediately. He approached the crying boy and crouched in front of him. "What's your name?"

"P-P-P-Percival."

Roger smiled. "Good."

He stood up and looked at Robert, the painting boy. "Robert, you know what to do."

Robert stood and took Percival's hand. Suddenly he put the boy onto his back and they climbed Castle Rock. Roger looked at the sky. The sun still existed. Good. Then he stared hard at Harold, who practically cowered in fear.

"Harold," he ordered, clutching half of Percival's torn shirt. "Go to the clearing and tell everyone we'll have a feast tonight. Use that fat kid's specs."

"But Chief..."

Roger apparently was in a good mood, so he merely looked up and asked, "What?"

"We don't have much meat to celebrate."

Roger was silent for a moment. "It's not about meat this time," he finally answered.

* * *

Ralph and Piggy were sitting around the fire, wondering what was going to happen. There wasn't so much meat, and although the littleuns had gone back from their fruit picking (they did that once in a while), it wouldn't be a huge feast.

They were surprisingly subdued, their eyes were dark under those face paints. Simon was no better. Ralph couldn't manage to know what was going to happen. Nobody answered him, even Samneric, who respected him more than anyone else.

Piggy assured him by telling him maybe someone had his birthday or something. Ralph scoffed, although he appreciated how the fat boy tried to calm him. Nobody remember their ages, let alone their birthdays!

The biguns appeared from the forest, Roger in lead. His eyes were shining in something indescribable. He gripped his spear proudly as he sat down on a certain rock, his 'throne' the littleuns called it. Some of the biguns and littleuns sat around him, the rest were scattered around the fire like Ralph and Piggy.

"QUIET!" suddenly Maurice shrieked, standing next to Roger's throne. "Listen up! The chief wants to say something!"

Silence cloaked them like a thick cloak. Ralph leaned to Sam who sat next to him. "What's going on?" he whispered.

Sam looked at him oddly. Eric, who sat next to his twin, stared at Ralph as oddly as Sam was. Then they opened their mouths.

"Just—"

"Wait—"

"Ralph."

Ralph wanted to ask more, but Roger was standing on his throne and banging his spear against Maurice's and Henry's. "We haven't much meat tonight," he announced, his voice wasn't as loud as Maurice's despite of him being the chief. "But we have something to celebrate."

Nobody spoken, except Ralph who couldn't contain his curiosity. "What is it?" he exclaimed.

The littleuns stared at the blond fretfully, fearing their chief would be furious. But Roger's mouth merely curled into a twisted smile. It was lopsided, but not dreamy like Simon's. "God, someone's excited in here. Why do you ask? Too uptight to wait? Don't get your knickers in a twist, just once."

The biguns laughed out loud and Ralph blushed. Roger silenced them with a glare and looked up at the sky. "There's a new boy in our lot."

Ralph and Piggy were shocked. Is there anyone else stranded in this place?

Roger flicked his fingers and a boy walked out, his torso fully painted. When he stopped in front of the fire, he looked up and Ralph immediately recognised the boy below the face paints. He gaped.

"PERCIVAL!"

The boy didn't even look at him. Ralph looked at Simon, whose face was as dark as the sky. He knows, Ralph thought. Percival was holding his shirt, but he threw it to the fire, his face expressionless.

Roger stared at Henry, who jumped up and clapped his hands, followed by the biguns and littleuns. "Say hello to our new boy, Percival!" he shouted. All of them, save for Ralph, Piggy, and Simon, were cheering almost instantly.

The littleuns, as if were commanded, came towards him and gave him a friendly greeting. Many of them gave him friendly pats on the back. Percival was smiling, but his face paints stole away his innocent looks. Ralph could see his relief for being accepted.

Nobody realised Simon had gone into the forest, his heart aching from the loss of his innocent little friend.

* * *

A/N: Hey, I'm back! Poor Percival and Simon, yeah? Sorry for that :)

I have a question for everyone who read this. Why are you reading _New, Civilised, Savage_? What do you think about this story?

Alright, that makes two questions. But anyway, if you answer them I'll be so happy! :)


	7. Piggy's Idea

_Chapter Seven: Piggy's Idea  
_

* * *

Weeks – or maybe even months - had passed since Ralph, Piggy, and Percival had arrived on the island.

Percival ignored Simon, his first friend, completely. The barmy boy didn't seem to mind, but Ralph knew he missed his old friend. The littleuns were warming up at Percival, and even sometimes the biguns took him hunting, much to the littleuns' jealousy. The freckled boy was stronger than boys his age.

"Ralph."

"Hm?"

Piggy stood next to him. Both were staring at the littleuns who were playing with Percival. "Do you want to be rescued?"

"Of course!" Ralph said. He looked at the other boys. "But it seems nobody else wants to."

"I've asked Stanley and Johnny," Piggy said slowly. "They still want to be rescued."

Ralph smiled widely. "So, what do you have in mind?"

* * *

A while later, Ralph, Piggy, Samneric, Stanley and Johnny were gathering on the hill. It was the place where Ralph had recognised Roger's knife. Like when Piggy and Ralph went up before, they took a steeper way. They had to walk further to reach the passage, but nobody seemed to mind.

The littleuns seemed a bit afraid of being on the hill, but Ralph thought it was because they were afraid of the steep climbing. He wondered why they didn't take the other passage he had seen in his first day. He knew it was steadier.

"We can make a rescue fire," Piggy said.

"We'll use Piggy's specs and take care of it." Ralph continued.

"What about the Chief?" Johnny asked fretfully.

"And Maurice?" Sam asked.

"And Henry?" Eric elaborated.

"Don't worry," Ralph assured although he wasn't sure himself. "I'll take care of them."

The two boys eyed him doubtfully, but didn't say anything. They crouched in front of the wood that they had collected, and Ralph lit the fire, using Piggy's glasses.

They cheered and Ralph told Samneric and Johnny to keep the fire until they came back.

* * *

Piggy decided to persuade the littleuns to take care about the rescue fire. The problem was he couldn't speak in front of people formally, so it became Ralph's job.

"Do you want to be rescued?" Piggy asked the bunch of kids. Nobody answered.

Ralph decided to speak up. "England's very beautiful. It's your hometown anyway. Don't y'all want to go home?"

Still, nobody answered. "And we can go to school again. School's really wonderful, in case you don't remember. It's much better than here. And you can see your family again? Someone here still remember their family?"

Feeling everybody's reluctance, Ralph finally let out his last weapon. He grinned at Piggy.

"In England there will be Piggy's auntie's candy shop. You can go there once we get outta here."

Suddenly they cheered.

"Candies! Hooray to candies!"

"Whee!"

"Candies!"

"We want home!"

Ralph smiled. _Who would have guessed those little boys' minds were that simple?_

"Alright, this is what you can do."

* * *

No biguns actually slacked in the clearing. Their place was actually Castle Rock, and no littleun could go there without Roger's permission. The biguns who rested or slept in the clearing were actually those who were too lazy to climb the rocky passage.

So, when Ralph and the littleuns made the plan about rescue fire, no biguns knew. Ralph made sure (or to be precise, hoped) it stayed that way. But Robert, who saw the smoke one afternoon, climbed up the hill and saw three kids were sitting in front of a fire.

"What are you guys doing?" he asked.

There were Samneric and a boy named Walter who were in the fire duty. They smiled shyly at Robert who crouched next to Eric. "I know what you are doing," he said gently, patting Walter's head. He stared at the fire in awe. "It's a rescue fire."

The bigun closed his eyes as a memory emerged in his mind. No littleuns remembered it anymore. It had been a long time.

_After all, if we make a rescue fire, we will be rescued and we'll stop having fun. Who wants to be rescued? I'm not stopping anyone. If you want to be rescued, go ahead, make it. All I'm saying is we'll have fun and when we're bored we can make a rescue fire and we'll get rescued straight away._

_As if everything was that easy_, Robert thought. But that was what they had thought, and it had sounded great that time.

Robert knew the chief wouldn't approve of this. He had given up the hope of being rescued long before everyone else had. But Robert wouldn't stop anyone who wanted to be rescued. As long as they didn't go near the Beast, it was fine.

"Robert?"

Robert snapped his eyes open and looked at Walter's big eyes. He liked Walter's eyes, so he had painted the clay around them, making it look bigger than their real sizes. "What?"

"You won't tell anyone, right?"

Robert shook his head. "I'm outta this," he said. "Who gave you this idea?"

Samneric answered his question.

"Piggy—"

"And Ralph."

Robert actually could guess. He stood, taking his spear with him. "Fine. I'll talk to them."

* * *

"We just want to be rescued," Ralph said as he and Robert walked in the forest. "Piggy got the idea when the chief told us to go up the hill. He saw the fire."

"To be precise, when he threw meat to your head," Robert smirked, couldn't hide his amusement.

Ralph scowled, but didn't say anything.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," Robert laughed at the blond's scowl. "That's how we treated boys in here. You won't be able to count how many we've done that to Simon."

"It's impolite," Ralph muttered.

Robert snickered. "'It's impolite'," he imitated jokingly. "Who cares about politeness and decency in here?"

"I do." Ralph said stubbornly.

Robert's snicker became louder. "That Uptight name suits you clearly," he said. At Ralph's scowl he grinned. "This is an island, Ralph. Nobody's here to tell us what to do."

They sat under a tree in the forest. Robert sat on the log and Ralph on the ground, his fingers playing with the grass. Robert continued. "We're okay with this. No teachers, no parents, nobody's ordering us. No 'do this, do that'. No people being civil around us. No rules."

"That's why I want to be rescued."

"What? The rules?"

"No. The civilisation. As much as you hate being ruled, it helps us being decent. Being civil isn't that bad."

"I know." Robert said. "I've been civil enough before I got here. We've been so bloody civil. You can't imagine how much we obeyed rules, even those which were irrational. We're only children. We want freedom, and look where we are now."

Ralph's eyes lit up in excitement. "So you want to be rescued?"

"I can't say that. But I won't say anything about the fire," Robert assured him. "I know how much y'all want to be rescued. But leave me outta this. As much as I love this place, I kind of miss my hometown sometimes."

"You remember your hometown?"

Robert shrugged, looking up in wonder. "Not really. But I remember we were together, the Chiefs, us hunters, and the littleuns when we came here. It's been a long time. I quite remember that Simon or Rupert lived near my house. Don't get me wrong, I miss my family, but I don't really care if we aren't rescued. I think my parents have thought me dead. I told you, it's been a long time."

Ralph nodded in understanding. Robert patted his back and stood. "Well, gotta go. I remember three littleuns need to be painted today. See you."

The bigun left, and the blond smiled. At least he had been supported from one of them. But one of his words came in his mind, and Ralph gaped when he realised something.

He looked for Robert, but the painting bigun was nowhere in sight. So he leant against the log and wondering who else was Chief other than Roger.

* * *

A/N: I like Robert, and don't ask why. I just... do. :)


	8. Ralph's Suo Gân

_Chapter Eight: Ralph's Suo Gân  
_

* * *

Ralph, Piggy, the littleuns, and Robert managed to keep the signal fire a secret. Robert had assured them no biguns were able to see the smoke from their fort. So, they managed to keep it quiet, until something happened.

To be precise, Percival happened. He was the only littleun who was taken to hunt other than Samneric, who followed the others occasionally. He knew about the rescue fire, of course. Although he was a hunter, he was still a littleun. And no littleun was allowed to be in Castle Rock, except if Robert wanted to paint them.

One day he and the biguns were hunting. They had gotten a sow and were squealing in happiness. They cheered and sang a song that at first shocked Percival.

_ "Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

At first he merely stood there. But Roger glared at him, and he silently followed the lyrics.

_ "Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

_ "Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

Eventually, Percival could enjoy his surroundings. He found himself singing the song, and slowly forgetting his civility. He waved his small spear around and cheered, successfully merged into the savages.

_"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

_ "Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

_ "Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

"Look!" suddenly Maurice pointed. There was a smoke colouring the sky. Percival's eyes widened and Robert paled. The bigun was lucky he stood behind his friends. He didn't want to think what would happen if they saw his face.

Roger pushed his right hand man away. "What on earth is that?" he hissed. He narrowed his eyes and saw Stanley and Johnny sitting on the hill. "Those are the littleuns, aren't they?"

It was a silly question, since every biguns were hunters, save for Ralph, who was around their ages. But Percival wanted to impress them, just like he wanted to meet everyone's approval.

"It's a rescue fire," he blurted out.

Nobody heard Robert's gasp behind them. Roger snapped his head dangerously at the littleun.

"What do you mean by that?" the dark boy hissed. All the biguns were staring at him, Robert included.

Percival was a bit unnerved. But he mistook the stares as approval. So he continued. "We want to be rescued. So we make a fire so someone could see us. And then we can go home! It's good, isn't it?" he smiled widely, although everyone could see it was a bit forced.

It took a while before Roger's eyes glinted in understanding. "I… see," he finally said. He looked back at his lot. "Take this to the clearing. Maurice and Henry, follow me."

And then the three biguns left. Robert closed his eyes. This won't be good. He glared inwardly at Percival, but he also understood the boy's feelings. Percival was merely a boy who wanted to be accepted by everyone. But that didn't change anything. He silently hoped nothing bad would happen to anyone.

* * *

It had been Ralph and Piggy's turn on the fire duty when Roger, Maurice, and Henry arrived on the hill. Their backs were on them and they didn't realise their arrival.

"What is this?" Maurice asked loudly.

Ralph and Piggy jumped from their seats on the uncomfortable ground. They looked at the three biguns. "It's a rescue fire," Ralph said boldly.

"Who told you to make it?" Roger hissed.

"We just want to be rescued," Piggy spoke up, repositioning his glasses.

"What if we don't want to?" Henry sneered at them, picking up some small rocks. Ralph's eyes narrowed in alarm. He knew this bigun's tendency to throw rocks at people. It made him angry. What gives him right to do that to people?

"Then you'll stay here!" the blond shouted. "We want to be outta here, not like you guys!"

This, and the fear at the three painted biguns, fuelled Piggy's defences. "If you're not too busy hunting, you'll stop to think!" the fat boy shouted. "You'll think about your hometown! You'll think of your family! If you're not so bloodthirsty, you'll want to be rescued!"

Roger's grip on his spear grew tighter in growing fury. Maurice and Henry saw that small movement and decided not to say anything.

But Ralph and Piggy didn't.

"What's on your mind?" Ralph scowled at them. "Only hunting and feasts and pig, pig, pig!"

"You don't even think about the shelters!" Piggy continued. "What kind of chief are you?"

Just like the last time, it was the last bloody straw. Roger, half-blind by a certain memory, immediately pushed the biguns away and in a blink of eye he was in front of Piggy. The fat boy suddenly was on the ground, his glasses collided against the rocks and a bleeding wound was formed on his cheek.

"What have you done?!" Ralph shrieked, helping Piggy to stand and gave him back his specs. The point of Roger's spear was covered in blood, and not just the sows'.

"My specs!" Piggy whined. "You broke a lens!"

"Serves you right!" Maurice sneered, an evil smirk on his face. Henry threw a rock at them and it hit Ralph's shoulder.

"But you won't get any fire!" Ralph shouted. All of them could sense the satisfaction in his voice.

Suddenly Roger was in front of him, his hands clutching on Ralph's battered shirt. "If you want to be rescued," Roger hissed. "Do what you want. But don't doubt me as a chief. Tell that fat slug that. I don't like being doubted." He stopped to take a breath. "I'm the Chief. I'll use that lard's glasses whenever I want."

He shoved Ralph to the ground. And before anyone could say anything, he rushed down the hill, Maurice followed. Henry threw another rock, hitting Piggy's head , before leaving.

* * *

The sky was getting dark, but Ralph was too troubled to go back to the clearing. He knew the chief wouldn't like the idea, but he never thought Roger would be that sadistic. He was nowhere in the clearing when they ate their meat, but nobody seemed to mind. Some biguns weren't there either.

_Don't doubt me. I'm the chief._

Nobody doubted him, to be honest. But then he remembered Piggy's question.

_"What kind of chief are you?"_

Ralph blinked. He remembered he had asked the same question, and ended up almost gone to Hell with the Beast. Maybe Roger had doubts about him being Chief.

That led him to Robert's words. Or was he slipping? Maybe he hadn't intended to say there was another Chief. Ralph massaged his head. This was making him crazy.

"Hi, Ralph."

Ralph almost jumped in shock when he saw Simon staring at him. "Simon! What are you doing here?"

"Sitting down."

Ralph huffed and sat down next to him. "You know what I mean."

Simon was silent for a moment. "I like in here. Here's relaxing. Although the Chief says here's dangerous." His face darkened. "Percival liked being here too. We sometimes walked around. Nobody but us likes walking around here."

"I know how it's like." Ralph said in sympathy. "I'm sorry for that, Si."

"Nah, it's really okay," Simon said softly, gesturing to his painted face. "I'm not innocent enough to keep someone else from savagery."

Ralph frowned in confusion. But Simon stared back at him, a small smile on his dark face. "How's the rescue fire?"

"Bad," Ralph huffed. "I don't want to talk about it."

Simon nodded understandingly. Silence cloaked them for a while. "I assume you don't want to go back right now?"

Ralph shook his head. "Is here safe enough?"

Simon's smile changed into a lopsided one and it unnerved Ralph in a strange way. It was as if he knew something that Ralph didn't. "Yes. You probably will like staying here. There'll be a very sweet lullaby almost every night. Do you need this?" he gestured at his school jacket.

After Ralph shook his head, Simon turned back and left. The knowing, strange smile still plastered on his face.

* * *

Ralph leant against a tree, wanting himself to fall asleep. He decided to ignore the barmy boy's last words. What he meant about 'sweet lullaby' Ralph would never know.

It was a bit colder than the afternoons, and Ralph couldn't sleep. The wind breezed down, making him shiver. But then the wind brought down not only the cold breeze.

_ Huna blentyn ar fy mynwes_  
_ Clyd a chynnes ydyw hon_

Ralph's head snapped up. He knew that song. Someone sang that song to him when he was little. He closed his eyes as a memory from his childhood emerged. He could hear his own childish whine, and gentle strokes from a child older than him could be felt on his hair.

_Where's Mommy?_

_ Don't worry, she's okay. Now sleep._

_ I don't want to sleep. Where's Mommy?_

_ She'll be back soon._

_ I'll wait for her!_

_ Ralph, Daddy told us to sleep. She'll be happier if we sleep._

_ I can't sleep! Mommy sings before I sleep!_

_ Really? I can sing too._

_ I don't want to hear you sing. I want Mommy sing._

_ Ssh, just sleep, okay? Your Mommy taught this to me. You won't know the difference._

_ I want Mommy! I don't want you! I...!_

_ Ssh... Listen._

_ ..._

_ Breichiau mam sy'n dynn amdanat_  
_ Cariad mam sy dan fy mron_

Ralph smiled sadly. The song reminded him of his hometown. He knew the song by heart. He stood and followed the voice, but it sounded unfocused. Finally he stopped under a tree, exhausted. The voice was louder, but he still couldn't know where it was from. He decided to sing along.

_Ni cha' dim amharu'th gyntun_  
_ Ni wna undyn â thi gam_  
_ Huna'n dawel, annwyl blentyn_

It was silent for a while, as if the singer was surprised by Ralph's odd voice. Ralph never considered himself a singer. He couldn't sing. But his one of his relatives had been a choirboy, his father once told him. He had never met that one, though. At least he didn't remember.

But then the beautiful, high pitched voice of a boy came back.

_ Huna'n fwyn ar frond y fam_  
_ Huna'n dawel, heno, huna_  
_ Huna'n fywn, y tlws ei lun_  
_ Pam yr wyt yn awr yn gwenu_  
_ Gwenu'n dirion yn dy hun?_

Ralph felt something resembled content and comfort. If someone asked him about Roger and the rescue fire, he would say that he had forgotten what had happened. The blond cleared his voice and sang back.

_Ai angylion fry sy'n gwenu_  
_ Arnat ti yn gwenu'n llon_  
_ Tithau'n gwenu'n ôl dan huno_  
_ Huno'n dawel ar fy mron?_

Ralph yawned after he sang that part. It was a lullaby anyway. Of course it made him sleepy. He laid down on the grassy ground, not caring of his surroundings. His eyes were difficult to keep open, but he wanted to hear the rest of the song. The other boy's voice came almost immediately.

_ Paid ag ofni, dim ond deilen_  
_ Gura, gura ar y ddôr_  
_ Paid ag ofni, ton fach unig_  
_ Sua, sua ar lan y môr_

Ralph had fallen asleep when the voice sang this part. It didn't stop, though. He fell into a dreamful sleep, full with blurry memories of his childhood, his home. It was the best night Ralph had ever had since he arrived on the island.

_ Huna blentyn, nid oes yma_  
_ Ddim i roddi iti fraw_  
_ Gwena'n dawel yn fy mynwes_  
_ Ar yr engyl gwynion draw_

* * *

A/N: the song is Suo Gan, like the title. This is my favourite chapter to write, I hope you like it too. :)


	9. Awakening of the Beast

_Chapter Nine: Awakening of the Beast  
_

* * *

Approximately a week later, Samneric found themselves walking up the hill. It was steep, and they had to hang on to each other so they didn't fall and break their necks. They were on fire duty, replacing two littleuns that nobody cared enough about to remember their names. Ralph had told them to take the steadier passage, but they, just like the others, didn't want to. They had their reasons for that.

The twins finally reached the top of the hill. The fire was still lit, and they sat near it, chatting about Stanley's new face paint. They found their conversation amusing, and they broke into peals of laughter soon enough.

"Ssh!" suddenly Sam clamped his hand over his twin's mouth. Eric stared at him questioningly.

There was silence between them. The only voice was wood cracking in the fire. Eric was going to release Sam's hand on his mouth and continued to laugh before he heard something else.

_Scratch!_

_ Scratch!_

_ Scratch!_

Samneric's eyes widened in fear. They immediately knew who made that noise. There was the only thing that sounded like that, and it hadn't let out that noise since who-knows-when.

"IT'S THE BEAST!"

They shrieked and, not caring of the fire, they rushed down the hill.

* * *

"The Beast?" Ralph asked, incredulous.

Samneric nodded, still trembling. "It woke up! There were scratching noises!" Simon circled his arms around them and they calmed down gradually. The littleuns crowded them, all of them obviously scared.

"What's going on here?"

They looked back and saw Roger and some other biguns. "Someone said Beast." Roger said quietly. "What about it?"

The littleuns rushed towards Robert, but Percival stopped in front of Roger. "The beast wakes up," the new savage said softly.

Roger looked down at him. "Who saw that?" he asked.

"Samneric."

Roger nodded slightly and pushed Percival out his way. He approached the twins hastily, almost shoving Piggy and Ralph away as well. He crouched in front of them, glaring daggers at Simon who didn't even loosen his embrace around the twins.

"Tell me," he hissed at them. "Tell me what you saw."

"We didn't—"

"Saw anything—"

"But we—"

"Heard."

Roger's eyes lit up in something indescribable. "Did it talk to you?"

Samneric shook their heads. "Scratch. Scratch," they said together.

"I see." Roger stood up and looked at the hunters. "The Beast's awoken! All of you, hunt!" he shouted so loud everybody jumped out their skin. "Take half of these little kids! You all know what to do!"

"The rest of you!" he pointed at the littleuns with his spear. "Prepare the fire! You know where!"

They scattered, leaving the clearing almost empty. Simon released Samneric as they left with the biguns. The rest of the littleuns walked away to collect more wood.

"What's just happened?" Ralph muttered, frowning. All of it went so fast it was difficult for him to comprehend. Piggy shrugged and blinked nervously behind his cracked specs.

"That," he said, "was what my auntie would call as 'chaos'."

* * *

Roger climbed up the steady passage to the hill. He vaguely saw the smoke of the damned rescue fire on the other side. He rolled his eyes and spat to the ground. It wasn't his business right now.

Scratch.

Scratch.

The dark boy smirked. He approached a sealed cave on the corner of the hill, covered by a tree and a pile of bushes. He knocked the seal, a huge rock, with his spear.

The scratching sounds stopped.

"You hungry?" he hissed.

No answer.

"No? Good," Roger sneered. "You still remember what I say about burning this cave. Now, may I ask you, what the hell have you done? Now we have to leave a bloody pig's head for you."

Still, no answer.

Roger's smile widened. "We have a feast on the beach tonight," he hissed. "To keep you away from us."

He opened his mouth and sang mockingly. His voice, however, was still beautiful, although had turned from high pitched of a choirboy to a bit rough of a teenager. "A feast in the bay keeps the Beast away. A feast in the bay keeps the Beast away. A bloody pig's head on a stick makes the Beast sick. A bloody pig's head on a stick makes the Beast sick. Ah yeah, yeah, yeah."

He snorted. "I wonder if you can come. It's been a long time, yeah? It's been a long time since the Donald incident, yeah? It's..." he trailed off as his eyes narrowed. With a very swift movement, he took his spear and threw it to the certain bush under the hill.

_ Someone's been spying on me!_

"Halt!" he shouted. "Who goes there?!"

No answer, but the small sounds of leaves and footsteps became further. Probably a pig, he assured himself. He always was the paranoid one. He kicked the huge rock, not caring of the pain he caused on himself, and sneered. "Need to go. There's a bloody pig's head to be cut today."

Roger rushed down the hill, took his spear, and walked away to their usual hunting spot. He didn't think any more about someone possibly spying on him. He even whistled, a sign that he was rather happy today.

Nobody knew there was a certain dark boy whose face painted and was wearing a quite battered school jacket, unconscious in the middle of the forest, quite glad that Roger hadn't caught him.

* * *

Ralph and the rest of the littleuns were carrying woods towards the beach. Piggy followed behind them, walking slowly and taking smaller woods with him. He was telling stories (Ralph briefly wondered how much stories that fat boy had) to the littleuns who walked near him.

"So that's why you don't want to take the steadier climb."

"Yes," a little boy named Michael said. The boy wasn't Piggy's number one fan like the others, so he walked next to Ralph. He probably wasn't a littleun, he was around Simon or Samneric's ages. The blond nodded in understanding.

"There's a cave up there. It's the Beast's lair. It's dangerous."

"I get it."

Wanting to get rid of the Beast's image, Ralph sang to himself. He sang the lullaby song he had heard in the forest. He had spent two nights sleeping in the forest, and listening to the song. That song reminded him of home.

Home. How he missed that place. His beautiful mother and his smart father. A Navy, his father was, rarely home but he missed him anyway. His relatives; his uncles and grandparents.

"Do you know why now we're allowed to the beach today?" he heard Piggy asked. He blinked as the thought hit him. Yeah, why now? The chief forbids us to go there, why now?

A boy named Wilfred answered. "When the Beast wakes up, we'll put a pig's head on a stick. A stick sharpened at both ends. It's for the Beast so we won't be eaten. The Chief says the Beast will hunt for its prey in the forest after we give him the gift. We'll have a feast on the beach near Castle Rock so the Beast won't get us."

"That's odd." Piggy said. "What is Castle Rock?"

"It's the biguns' place," Stanley said. "None of us can go there. Except the Chief told us to, which is never."

"We really want to go there," a littleun said, rubbing his painted face with his palm.

"Robert takes us up there sometimes," Johnny said. "To paint our faces."

"But we never really go there and explore!"

"I'd give everything to be in Castle Rock." Walter said quietly, his big eyes narrowed a bit. "I'd give everything to be one of the hunters! I'd give everything to make Robert my brother."

"Yeah, me too!" some littleuns cheered. It was followed by all of them. "Me too!"

Piggy and Ralph merely stared at them. Ralph knew Robert was the littleuns' idol, and they would do everything that bigun did. He rather liked that boy, to be honest. Robert was warm and nice, never cruel like the others. And he hoped it stayed that way.

They arrived on the beach. Ralph looked around. It was different than the beach him, Piggy, and Percival had first arrived. This had more rocks and there was a huge rocky hill on the corner of it, which was surely Castle Rock.

The littleuns were actually fast workers. They hurriedly collected the woods together and snatched Piggy's glasses in mixture of fear and excitement. Wilfred lit the fire and gave the broken glasses back.

"Now," Ralph said, lying down on the sand. "We'll wait for the hunters."

Piggy smiled at the littleuns. "Anyone up for a story about my auntie's Croc-Candy?"

They cheered.

* * *

Roger got out his knife and smirked at the dead pig in front of them. They had gotten two pigs today, and he knew it was enough. He knelt in front of it and started to cut its head. Behind them, the hunters started to sing along their usual words.

"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"

"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"

Roger took the head and placed it painstakingly on the stick sharpened on both ends. The stick was placed under the hill, exactly under the cave. "Take this, bloody beast!" he shouted at silence. He turned back and stared hard at his lot. "Now, to the beach. We'll have a feast and then it's time to party."

Samneric, Henry, Rupert, Bill, and Douglas took the pigs and they left the forest. They sang their way out, still singing their hunting song.

"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"

After they left, a small rustling sound was heard near the pig's head. The head was rapidly swarmed with flies and the buzzing voice was growing louder.

There was a small noise and Simon emerged slowly from the bushes. The barmy boy walked around the stick before sat down in front of it. He stared at the pig's lifeless eyes and suddenly an unrecognisable voice whispered near him. _Around _him.

"Well, is this the unwanted child of mine?"

* * *

A/N: Croc-Candy belongs to meh! :D And who's talking to Simon? :D


	10. A Free, Civil Beast in a School Jacket

_Chapter Ten: A Free, Civil Beast in a School Jacket_

* * *

"You're the barmy little lad in the lot, right?" the voice said mockingly inside Simon's mind. The sky was starting to darken, and the cheers of the boys on the beach were turning into thrilled screeches and their usual hunting songs.

Simon didn't say anything. He tightened his hold on Ralph's school jacket.

"It's been a long time since I talked to someone. Nice to see you," the voice still mocked him. "You're such an ignorant, silly little boy. A barmy one who never plays with his friends. Don't you agree?"

Simon chose not to answer the question. "I've heard about you before," he blurted out. "You're what I call Lord of the Flies."

Lord of the Flies snickered. "Really? They call me differently. For them I'm the Beast."

"For me you're a pig's head on a stick."

"Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill!" said the Lord of the Flies. "The Beast's something you could shut in a cave for ages."

"I'm the only one who knows." Simon whispered. "I know the truth. There's no Beast."

"Yes, yes, you do," said the Lord of the Flies, matter-of-factly. "You know what Roger hides from everyone. To be precise, you're the one who's still _alive_. But nobody will believe you, right? Because you're barmy. You're cracked, batty."

Simon's silence was taken by Lord of the Flies as a signal to keep going. "Why are you here all alone? Can't you just play with the others? You're a poor, misguided child nobody believes in. Even your dear Percival left you alone."

Simon stiffened at the mention of his old, brief friend. "Leave me alone," he muttered.

Lord of the Flies laughed loudly. "If I do, who's going to be your company? Little silly boy. You don't want everyone to think you're barmy, do you? Although we both know it's a bit too late for that. You don't want Ralph to think you're barmy, right? And Piggy? And Roger? And Percival?"

Simon's head wobbled and his eyes were half-closed, as if he was going to imitate the obscene thing on that stick.

"Listen." The Lord of the Flies' voice strangely resembled a schoolmaster from Simon's past, whom he vaguely remembered. "You won't keep the truth much longer. The Beast's going to be free. I'm warning you. I'll have fun in this island. I'll have fun, my poor, silly, barmy little Simon. Go down there, and tell them the truth. See who'll win."

Simon blinked and he was inside the mouth. "Th-there's no Beast..." he managed a mutter before he lost his consciousness.

The last thing he heard was Lord of the Flies' chuckle.

* * *

"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"

"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"

It was fun. Ralph looked around and realised that he was between something resembled a frenzy. Roger was spinning a lit stick artfully. Even Piggy seemed to enjoy the situation. He was sitting under a tree near the way into the forest, watching the party as if it was an interesting spectacle.

The chief had taught him how to spin a lit stick. They looked back and saw Bill throwing a lit stick to the sea. The littleuns cheered. Some of the boys were still eating the pork. But they finished almost immediately and joined the group of frenzy boys.

Percival and the rest of the littleuns were playing together. They chased each other, they swam, and some even imitated what Roger and Bill had done. Robert joined them, along with another boy named Rupert. A littleun, who was a talented dancer, stood on a small rock and danced together with Walter and Stanley.

_"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

_"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

Ralph, exhausted to the bones, sat down next to Piggy and watched them. "What a party," he said.

"Yeah," Piggy nodded in agreement. "My auntie won't believe this if I tell her."

Ralph snapped his head at him and he realised that he had forgotten about the rescue fire. "We should start it again tomorrow."

_"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

_"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

Piggy eyed him confusedly. "What should be started? The rescue fire?"

"Yeah. And now with the Beast's silenced, we'll be okay."

Suddenly Ralph was hit by a memory.

_Maybe there's no beast. Maybe it's only us._

He stiffened in recognition. "Piggy," he called frantically. "Do you see Simon?"

"I saw him this morning."

Ralph growled exasperatedly. "I mean _now_! Before we ate! Have you seen him? He's not with us!"

_"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

_"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

"He'll be here soon," Piggy assured him. "Maybe he's asleep in the clearing. Maybe..."

"LOOK!"

All noise ceased, and both Ralph and Piggy looked up to see what happened. Roger stood alone, pointing at something. There was a small rustling sound from the forest. It was so clearly heard, because no littleun whimpered. Nobody dared to even _breathe_.

"THE BEAST!" Henry—or was it Maurice?—shrieked.

"KILL IT!" Roger screamed.

And suddenly they rushed towards the place. Both Ralph and Piggy knew what they would do. Horrified of what they would see, Ralph stole the remaining spear and Piggy took a lit stick before they rushed as fast as they could into the forest.

* * *

There were so many screams. Percival was lost in them. He was excited, his adrenaline rushing inside him, making him twice braver. The beast screamed about something Percival couldn't comprehend. It staggered into their circle and the biguns started to stab their spears at it.

"Kill it! Kill it!"

The youngest hunter in the lot took his spear and rushed towards the crowd, wanting to feel the rush in killing something that had been a threat for them. He stabbed once, cheering as he did so. "I killed the Beast!" he cheered.

All the littleuns seemed to have spears. All of them, plus the biguns, cheered when they got their chance to stab the Beast. Roger stabbed it the most, clearly satisfied as he did a stab and then another. The Beast's blood stained the pale sand, and Percival wondered why its form was just slightly bigger than his own body. Its body was even smaller than the biguns'!

But then Percival saw it.

A school badge.

Ralph's school badge.

He staggered back, shocked beyond belief. A wave of nausea washed him.

_I killed Ralph! I killed Ralph! I killed Ralph!_

But another memory of Ralph and Simon's conversation hit him.

_"Why are you wearing my jacket?"_

_"I like this. Can I keep it?"_

_"Fine. Take it. But don't tear it apart."_

_"Thanks, Ralph."_

Percival was so sick he threw up immediately. He pushed himself forward, trying to make them stop stabbing the boy who was his first friend.

"No! No! It's Simon! Stop it! Stop it! Please!"

But nobody cared.

_"Kill the Beast! Slit his throat! Bash him in!"_

_"Kill the Beast! Slit his throat! Bash him in!"_

Since the chief made him one of them, Percival had felt so strong, so brave. So _big_. He could handle everything. He had friends who approved him. But now... he'd never felt so bloody _small_. So bloody _alone_. He fell onto his knees, crying. "Please!" he sobbed. "Please, it's only Simon. It's not the Beast. It's Simon."

_"Kill the Beast! Slit his throat! Bash him in!"_

_"Kill the Beast! Slit his throat! Bash him in!"_

_"Kill the Beast! Slit his throat! Bash him in!"_

For the first time, Percival Wemys Madison, the boy who had forgotten about his address, didn't believe in the Beast.

* * *

Ralph kept running. The screams were forever scarring his mind. Piggy followed as fast as he could, carrying the lit stick in his grip. Finally they stopped under the steady passage up the hill. Ralph was panting heavily when he crouched under the tree, and he realised that it was the place he had heard the lullaby.

"What did they do?" Piggy asked.

"I don't want to know," Ralph said, his tone had the hint of finality. "I don't want to think..."

He looked up and screamed. Piggy jumped in surprise.

The Lord of the Flies' face stared back at him. The flies still swarmed on it. Several even found their way to Ralph and Piggy. Some landed on Ralph's hair and thighs. Piggy shooed some flies away from his body and specs, muttering something about flies were not supposed to fly at night. Ralph didn't care; he was too transfixed at the pig's head on the stick.

"Bloody hell..." he muttered to himself.

"Bloody hell indeed." An unrecognisable voice muttered back at him.

"Who the hell are you?" Ralph asked, shocked and utterly baffled.

"Ralph?" Piggy asked worriedly. Ralph shushed him, trying to maintain the odd connection.

"I'm the Beast," the voice answered. "But Simon preferred a longer name for me. He said it suited me better."

"What is it?"

"He called me Lord of the Flies." There was a pause, as if the Lord of the Flies was taking its time to gloat. "Told you it's a nice name."

"You're the Beast?" Ralph asked incredulously. "I think..."

The Lord of the Flies' laugh was loud inside Ralph's head. "You think too much, my boy. Remind me to Simon. Well, fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill, yes? Let me tell you, I'm not that almighty. But I do have powers."

Simon's name snapped something in Ralph's mind. "You seem close to Simon. Where's he?"

If possible, Lord of the Flies' laugh grew louder, filling every part of Ralph's brain. "We're just starting to have fun in this island," it said between its laughs. "A beast can't be shut in a cave forever. It'll break free."

"And?" Ralph asked, confused.

"Listen to those beautiful screams. I'm finally having my time in this place. Simon's losing the challenge." Lord of the Flies still laughed, but it turned into a wicked one. "He wants people to know the truth. But he keeps forgetting that he's just a silly, unwanted boy that nobody believes in."

Ralph was so shocked he couldn't breathe. "Th-they killed... Simon?"

"Yeah. Now go up the cave," said the Lord of the Flies easily, as if it was just talking about weather. "Free the Beast. Let me have my fun. And then set everything to rights. We'll see who'll win."

"Why should I free the beast?" Ralph asked challengingly. He felt like crying for Simon, but he couldn't back down now. "It'll just screw things up."

"Bollocks to that," Lord of the Flies chided. "You seem really civil to me. You still have respect then."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Then honour your barmy friend," Lord of the Flies sneered. "He wants you all to see the truth. But he failed. So go up the cave. Free the Beast. It's his death wish. Ironic, isn't it?"

Suddenly the voice disappeared, leaving Ralph alone with Piggy. The blond blinked and saw the pig's head on a stick, still swarmed by flies.

"Ralph, are you okay?"

Ralph looked back at the fat boy with cracked specs. The screams were vague and faded out Ralph's hearing. And he cried.

"Piggy, it was Simon. It was murder."

* * *

There was no biguns. They had climbed their way to Castle Rock after their realised what had happened. There was no littleuns either. They had rushed into the clearing. It was pretty confusing for them, and most of them probably didn't know that it was Simon.

The air was cool, moist and clear. The water's sound was still. Simon's body lay huddled on the pale beach. His body was bloody from the boys' spears. The blood was also covered his face, and the salty seawater slowly washed it, along with his face paints, away. His school jacket was torn apart and unrecognisable.

Despite of his fatal wounds, he wasn't dead yet. There was a small spark of life inside him. And that spark was calling for a certain someone. He had to do something before he left this world forever. The Lord of the Flies won this time, just like it had won before, and Simon wouldn't let it happen again.

Percival staggered towards the body and knelt next to him. He cried so hard his face paints melted from his face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the freckled boy muttered again and again, taking Simon's bloodied hand. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"It's... okay."

Percival was so shocked his body jerked. "You're alive! Simon, you're alive!"

Simon smiled weakly. "T-take this."

"What?"

Using all his strength, Simon gestured to the half of his school jacket. Percival frowned, but like what Simon had always thought, he was a smart boy. He took the remains of the jacket, and Simon's smile widened when he could see a flash of Ralph's full name, although it was stained with his blood. "Give... give that..."

Percival eyed him oddly, his brow furrowed in concentration. If he weren't going to the realm of death, Simon would laugh. Percival looked so... childlike, with face paints melted and innocent eyes staring hard at him. It had been a long time since he looked like that.

White dots started to get into Simon's vision, along with rainbow colours, and the dying boy knew he didn't have much time. "...t-to the Chief."

"Okay," Percival said. "I'll give it to him tomorrow."

Simon managed to shake his head. "N-not Roger. Not Roger."

"But Simon, who...?"

"Per-Percival... am... am I look... like a schoolboy?"

Percival gaped at the sudden change of topic but Simon's hopeful smile made him nod vigorously. The boy knew how much Simon wanted to look civil, despite of his atrocious face paints. "Yes! Yes! You're the best school boy in the best school!"

Simon grinned at the childish remark. "Th-thanks. You're... my friend, Percival... Wemys... Madison. Th-the Vicarage, Harcourt St. An-Anthony, H-Hants..."

He trailed off before he could recite Percival's telephone number, attempting to remind the little boy of the civility he had forgotten. The dots and colours won, and Simon's spirit flew, leaving his body and a confused, crying boy kneeling next to him, his hands gripping the remains of a school jacket.

* * *

"He's barmy. And it was dark. We were scared!"

"But I wasn't!"

Piggy sighed sympathetically next to him. Ralph knew he actually couldn't really get along with Simon. He just wanted to sympathize with Ralph. "And what good it'll do to you, talking about him like this? There's nothing you can do now."

"No." Ralph suddenly stood. "Simon has a last wish," he whispered. "C'mon."

Ralph, suddenly filled with excitement, pulled Piggy up the steady passage up the hill. The fat boy had to hang on to his lit stick and Ralph on the spear, but they eventually could make it. They stood in front of the sealed cave a while later.

"This is..."

"The Beast's lair, yes." Ralph closed his eyes. _Free the Beast. That's Simon's death wish._

"Piggy, can you help me?"

After a while of discussion, Ralph slipped the spear under the huge rock which sealed the cave. "Alright, on the count of three, we push."

"Okay," Piggy took a deep breath.

"One... Two... Three!"

They pushed.

"One... Two... Three!"

They pushed.

"It moved! Again! One... Two... Three!"

They pushed. Again and again. Ralph was quite impressed by Piggy. That fat lard was surprisingly strong.

Until...

"Last time, Piggy! You can do this without your sucky ass-mar attacking! One... Two... Three!"

The huge rock slipped down the hill, landed several inches next to the Lord of the Flies. Piggy landed on his bum on the ground, his breath rapid. He looked like he would get an ass-mar attack anytime soon, so Ralph left him be. He picked up the lit stick and peeked inside the cave.

"Hello?" Ralph called. The cave was low, so he had to bend himself a bit.

Then there was a movement. A very _slow_ movement. But when Ralph could make out a form of a human being crawling shakily at him, his eyes widened. It was a boy. He was thin, very thin indeed. His cheeks were sallow and he only wore battered pants, a bit like Roger's, and a black cap with a golden badge. His blue eyes were blank. His face was painted, but it was faded, not like the hunters.

His hair, however, was the reddest hair Ralph had ever seen.

* * *

A/N: The Unknown, here's your answer! Jack's not coming, he's there all this time and we don't even know it! (Thanks for being my first reviewer, you're the best!) Or maybe someone else has guessed?

Yeah, Simon's dead in here. Sorry! At least him and Percival are okay now. :D

I hope I don't make anything too OOC or such. I made this in the middle of the night. ^^

I hate writing Lord of the Flies' part. It's difficult and I don't like how it turned out. This is unbeta'd, sorry! I wonder where Nightkill is... but I don't want to keep y'all readers hanging for days.


	11. Twenty Questions

_Chapter Eleven: Twenty Questions_

* * *

Ralph immediately knew why this boy crawled when Ralph saw him for the first time. He was much taller than Ralph was. Ralph helped him to stand and he leant against the cave. Piggy was still breathing heavily when they emerged. The redhead blinked when he saw the boy.

"Who's this boy with ass-mar?" he asked hoarsely, but its tone still contained haughtiness.

Ralph was taken aback by the use of his personal language. 'Ass-mar' was the thing he made up when he was little, together with one of his relatives. But he immediately sobered up. "He saved you," he said sharply.

The redhead stared at him, his eyes narrowed. They had a long, hard staring contest. Piggy's rapid breathing was the only voice between them. Ralph frowned. He had this tingling feeling… like he had seen this boy somewhere. He couldn't remember, though.

"Thanks," the redhead whispered, breaking the staring contest. He knelt in front of Piggy. "Shut up, Fatty. Stop breathing like you're going to die anytime soon."

"It's Piggy," Ralph said. He didn't intend it as a joke, but merely because he didn't know the fat boy's real name.

The redhead burst in a hoarse laughter. "What a name," he muttered. He looked up at Ralph who knelt next to him, both watching Piggy who was trying to control his breath. "You seem new to me. I don't remember seeing you around. I'm Jack."

"Me neither." Ralph grinned weakly at him. "I'm Ralph. We got stranded after you did."

Jack merely tilted his head. Piggy coughed and finally stopped breathing rapidly. "You okay now?" Ralph asked kindly. Piggy nodded. Jack stood slowly, offering Ralph his hand, which he took. They hauled Piggy together, and for a boy who was detained in a cave for quite a long time, he was surprisingly strong.

"What should we do?" Piggy asked.

Jack's eyes were suddenly as wide as saucers. "I shouldn't be seen. I know where to go," Jack said huskily, then pointed at the huge rock. "We have to put that thing up again."

"We won't be strong enough," Ralph said, frowning at him.

Jack blinked as if he hadn't realised that fact before. "Yeah, yeah, of course you're right." Jack muttered absently. But then his eyes lit up. "I know where to go for a while. But you can't tell this to anyone."

Ralph saw the fierce seriousness on his face and decided they had to act fast. "C'mon. Piggy can go back to the clearing, and I'll go with you."

"Can I come?" Piggy asked softly, obviously wanted to be approved by this boy. Jack seemed like he had some kind of nameless authority in him, which made both Ralph and Piggy wanted to look up at him.

Jack eyed Piggy disapprovingly. Ralph crouched in front of him. "You're tired, Piggy," he said slowly. "Go back to the shelter. I know the littleuns need you right now." He glanced at Jack briefly before lowering his voice. "Especially after what happened. You're the only one with common sense. And stories about a candy shop."

Piggy's face broke into a small smile. "You're right, Ralph. You always do." He stood, and the three of them silently walked down the hill.

* * *

Jack waited below the darkness as Ralph and Piggy entered the clearing. It seemed like the place was abandoned. But then his blue eyes caught the sight of the shelters and he couldn't help but to gape. The fire on the middle of it seemed like it had died hours ago, and to make long story short, the clearing seemed _dead_. To be honest, the whole bloody island seemed dead. It frightened and interested Jack at the same time.

Before they left Piggy, Ralph made him sworn to secrecy, and he wasn't a type of friend who would break his promise. Even Jack could see that.

"Shelters?" he asked quietly as they walked in the forest.

Ralph shrugged. "One of them got a cold. What should I do?"

Jack nodded absently, walking carefully. He hadn't used his legs in ages, after all. "We never cared about it," he whispered.

Ralph stared at him curiously. "You haven't told me about you, y'know," he said.

Jack didn't say anything. After a while walking, he stopped. "We're here," he said, rather bitterly. "But I need to drink. I'm bloody thirsty. Are you sure you want to come?"

Ralph shrugged. "It's okay with me."

"Suit yourself," Jack huffed and they walked towards the river in the forest. The redhead squatted in front of the stream and drank using his hands as a bowl. Ralph eyed him as he drank greedily. If Jack had to hide, he can't be near the river.

"I have this coconut," the blond said. "Samneric gave it to me. I use it to take water."

Jack eyed him incredulously, staring at his torn shirt. "How very civil are you," he said finally.

"You want me to take it?" Ralph offered.

Jack smirked. "That's very nice of you," he said with a tint of sarcasm. Ralph was going to retort when Jack's face broke into a cheeky grin. "No, I'm fine with this. Now, c'mon."

They walked back to the place Jack had said before. Ralph gaped when he realised the familiar surroundings. Jack sat down behind a bush, under a huge rock. Ralph sat next to him, still gobsmacked.

"Shut your mouth," Jack chided. "You look like a dumb blonde."

"Sorry." Ralph grinned weakly. He swallowed the bile in his throat. "This place... Simon always came here. I met him here once, and I sometimes sleep here."

Jack's eyes lit up. "Simon..." he muttered. "Where is he?"

Ralph didn't realise he was crying until Jack told him so. "Simon... that was murder. Jack, they killed Simon. There was a feast... and Simon came out the forest and they just... just..."

Under the moonlight, Jack's face reddened in anger. He jumped so abruptly his legs protested. Ralph caught him just before he fell on his bum on the ground. "He did it again!" the redhead snarled, his anger unbearable.

"Who?" Ralph whispered.

"Roger! That bloody Roger!"

"The Chief?"

Jack narrowed his eyes. "What did you call him?"

"The... Chief?" Ralph said carefully.

Suddenly he was pushed against the rock, Jack's wild eyes in front of him. "Don't call him that. At least not when I'm around."

Ralph slowly nodded, fear tingled in his insides. "It's good you don't have a spear with you."

Jack looked at him with haughty confusion. As if he was confused but felt too _high_ to be confused or something. "What do you mean?"

"You see Piggy's cheek?" Ralph asked. "Roger smacked him with his spear, broke his glasses, and gave that scar. It scared him for _ages_."

"I've seen that before," Jack said. "Roger did that a lot. I don't know if he does it again when I'm... not around, but if you see... what's his name? The one who has a twin... Eric. His cheek has the same scar as that fat boy has. It's been a long time."

"You haven't told me about you." Ralph stared at him, his curiosity unbearable.

"You haven't told me about you either," Jack said easily, but it was obvious that he was curious about Ralph as much he did the redhead.

"Care to play twenty questions?"

Jack was silent, and Ralph took it as a yes.

"Can you tell me why you were in that cave?"

Jack bit his lip, and that was the first time Ralph saw his control crumbled. "It's a quite long story. But I'll make it short."

* * *

_Jack knew Roger didn't like him, at least not like he used to. Both knew the Donald incident had shifted their friendship. He sensed a power struggle would emerge between the two of them. He wasn't afraid, though. He knew he had the boys behind his back, and was sure that Roger wouldn't stand a chance. He was their Chief, after all._

_But then it happened._

_They were hunting. They were running and screaming in the forest. The pig squealed in fear. Jack, who ran in front of all of them, started to sing the song he had made, and was followed immediately._

_"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

_"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

_The pig ran towards a lower ground, which was hidden by a huge tree and a huge rock. Jack was going to jump down there when he felt something strong shoved his back. He landed headfirst on the hard ground and everything went dark._

* * *

"That's it. I woke up and I was in that sodding cave. I still have a bloody scar on my head for that fall." Jack paused, patting his black cap and scowled. "My turn. How did you get here?"

Ralph just wanted to ask more when he realised that Jack was into the game. So he answered. "Mm," he muttered. He knew it was the first question the redhead would ask. "The plane crashed here. First we thought we were the only one stranded, but then everyone just emerged from nowhere and here we are. Who's Donald?"

Jack inhaled sharply, reluctant to share the dark secret. "The mulberry-marked boy. The first one who saw the Beast and changed everything. The reason all of this happened."

* * *

_"There was a beastie!"_

_"What?" Jack asked, rising from his throne in the clearing. He had called an assembly because of this boy, Donald. He had reported that he saw something in the forest, which he referred as a 'beastie'. It was still their first week, for the Queen's sake, and they hadn't even been hunting yet._

_Simon walked towards Jack. "Can I have the conch?" he whispered._

_Jack gave it to him a bit uncertainly. Who knows what the batty boy will say?_

_"Maybe there's no beast. Maybe it's only us." Simon said nervously._

_Suddenly. Roger stood from the next of Jack's throne. "Who cares at this barmy little slug?" he taunted. Simon blinked and put the conch, looking dreamy as usual._

_Jack stared at him oddly. "You don't have the conch, shut up."_

_Roger sat down again, his face flushed so red it was visible on his dark skin. Jack paid him no heed. He banged his spear against the ground._

_"I don't really care of the Beast. We can have fun, for all that bloody beast care! Assembly dismissed."_

_They cheered. Donald and Roger, however, didn't even open their mouths._

* * *

"Donald was crazier than Simon. Although both weren't that close." Jack said. "He kept saying about this beast, so we gave it our first pig's head. I told them to keep having fun, and the bloody Roger didn't like that at all. He never wanted everyone to have fun. Donald was the first one who knew about me."

He paused. "Now, you. Who else?"

"Who else what?" Ralph asked reluctantly, still a bit caught up with the earlier story.

"Who else got stranded besides you and that... Piggy?"

"Percival." Saying that name triggered things in Ralph's mind. His insides burned with anger. "He was close to Simon, before Roger took him as one of his hunters. He and Simon loved drawing school badges."

"My God," Jack exhaled. "Finally that cracked boy got someone who shared his love to civility."

"Why Roger faked your death?"

Jack snorted. "Because I was the Chief. And he hates my bloody guts." He was silent for a while. "We used to be great together. And then our ship sank and we got stranded like we're Robinson Crusoe or something. I have nobody to talk to, so I spent my time to think. Cherishing pasts, usually."

"You know anything about your past?"

"Not much, but more than any other boys in here, I'm sure. I didn't have anything useful to do, anyway. Why did you set me free? Roger told everyone I'm the Beast and nobody can go near the cave. I think you know that too."

"It was Simon's last wish. I talked to... to... someone and knew it."

Jack's eyes widened. "I just can't imagine they... they did it. Simon's the only one who knew the truth behind Roger's secret. He was the only one _remained_."

"Remained?" Ralph gaped at him. "Have they done this before?"

"Done what?"

"What they've done to Simon."

Jack was silent for a moment. "Well, since our fun in this bloody place's been screwed up, I don't think it'd be wrong to tell you. Yes, they did. We called it the Donald incident. Roger bloody killed him for being near the 'Beast'."

* * *

_Jack was staring to the usual darkness of the cave when he heard something outside. He knew who owned the noise. His lips curled into a small smile. The boy with the odd mark on his face—Donald—always came to him, and they would talk in small voices._

_He never cared about that boy before, but now... trapped alone in the cave, he accepted the barmy boy company eventually._

_"Halt! Who goes there?!"_

_Jack eyes widened. He didn't know Roger was there. He could hear Donald trying to scamper away, but apparently he failed._

_"Fancy meeting you here, little sod," Roger hissed. "Do you know where you are?"_

_"I know!" Donald shrieked. Judging from his voice, Jack knew Roger was gripping his battered shirt's collar. The former chief banged his fists at the stone wall, but no avail._

_"Tell me then."_

_"Chief's in there! You're not Chief! Chief's in there!"_

_Jack gulped. Even he, the fearless Jack, felt the fear of what would happen._

_Roger growled loudly. "I'm the Chief! REMEMBER THAT! I'M THE CHIEF! JACK'S AS GOOD AS DEAD NOW!"_

_There was a startling noise. It was so shocking that Jack gasped._

_Roger had thrown Donald off the hill._

_"You, Jack," he said slowly. "Talk to another boy and I'll burn your lovely cave. You'd love it, really. The only holes where I provide you with food and drinks... filled with fire and smoke. Imagine yourself die, Jack. That can put a smile on my face for days. But no... I don't want you to die. Yet. Until then, have fun."_

_Then his footsteps became further and further Jack couldn't hear him anymore._

_But slowly, other footsteps were heard. Jack jumped when he heard a whisper of a voice he always heard in the choir he vaguely remembered._

_"I saw everything. I know, Jack."_

_Simon._

* * *

Jack took a deep breath. "Still, why he had to be so batty. Nobody dared to go there but him and Simon."

"And Simon tried to tell us about you," Ralph mused. "He took Percival to the forest and he went back telling me that he heard the beastie."

"Now look what happened to them."

"But you liked his company."

Jack had no comeback for that. They were silent for a while, before Jack's blue eyes lit up in amusement for the first time. "My turn, now. Was it you who go bonkers when Roger threw meat to your head? I heard you."

Ralph sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, it was me."

Jack laughed. He laughed so loud Ralph was afraid someone would hear them. "I used to do that, y'know. Throwing meat to ungrateful brats."

"So you're calling me an ungrateful brat?"

"You obviously acted like one," Jack said, still amused. At the redhead's amused face Ralph was forced to laugh as well.

They were silent afterwards, not finding anything else to talk to. It wasn't long until they both fell unto a deep, sheer exhaustion. They even didn't care about the sunrise. They were shadowed by the tree and the rock they knew they would be safe. And Ralph knew, for the first time since he got stranded, that he had found someone equal to him to talk to.

* * *

A/N: I hate this chapter of you ask me. It obviously lacks something, and I'm bad at descriptions. Believe it or not, I fixed this part about 7 times and still dissatisfied. But I hope you like it! Feel free to tell me what I'm lacked at, and I'd do my best to fix it. Still, this is unbeta'd. :)

The name Donald for The Mulberry-Marked Boy was taken from LOTF 1963's site.


	12. Groups of Boys and Heartbroken Littleuns

_Chapter Twelve: Groups of Boys and Heartbroken Littleuns_

* * *

Ralph fell asleep in Jack's hideout, and he woke up when something filled his hearing. He rose slowly, and immediately saw Jack, his back facing him. Ralph could hear him humming a song.

"What are you doing?" Ralph crawled towards him.

"Singing." Jack said matter-of-factly.

Ralph gaped as Maurice's words filled his mind. He wondered how he never thought about it. "You were the one singing that lullaby!"

"Obviously." But then Jack stared at him oddly. "Was you the one who sing back?"

Ralph was silent for a moment. "Yeah."

Jack's expression changed so fast he looked like a human kaleidoscope. Ralph blinked and the redhead sobered up. "Well… I just wondered who sang so badly that night."

"Hey!" Ralph protested. Jack grinned, but his faded face paints made him less scary. "But you sang back!"

Jack's grin fell. "I just…!"

"Ralph! Ralph!"

The two boys looked up to see Piggy, panting as he looked down from the rock. The blond stood. "What is it?"

"You should go back!" Piggy panted and Ralph stood in worry. "We need you in the clearing!"

"What happened?" the blond asked.

Piggy eyed Jack worriedly. "The Chief's angry because the Beast wakes up!" he said. "You've got to get outta here!"

Jack snorted but Ralph knew he was worried as well. But he composed his face into an expressionless mask and stood straighter. "I think I know where to go. They will search here first. You two," he ordered with a hushed voice, "keep your mouths shut."

Both Ralph and Piggy nodded. Jack was going to leave when Ralph grabbed his arm. The redhead hissed and Ralph muttered a hasty apology.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

Jack lifted his eyebrow and whispered so Piggy wouldn't hear.

"Castle Rock."

* * *

Piggy was half-dragging Ralph into the clearing and trying hard not to trip on the creeper things when he saw Roger and all the boys in there. He could sense a heated argument even before they arrived.

Ralph, however, was too worried to notice. Piggy was sure his thoughts stuck at the redhead 'beast'. He wondered what had gotten Ralph so transfixed with the redhead. For him Jack wasn't that special, instead he was a bit creepy.

They sneaked to the back of the crowd and heard what was being talked about. They were lucky nobody noticed them. Piggy had lied (something he almost never did) to anyone who asked and said Ralph had been off to the river to have some fresh water.

"The beast's free," Roger said, his voice containing a barely concealed fury.

"But we killed it!" a littleun shouted. "We killed it yesterday!" His remark was followed by voices. Roger snapped his head towards him and the voices was silenced immediately. He whispered something to Maurice, who opened his mouth.

"Anyone want to speak?" Maurice asked loudly. "Before we begin our search of the Beast so we can kill it for good."

Nobody spoke. "Alright then." Maurice stated. "We'll..."

"There's no beast."

The voice was small, and obviously belonged to one of the littleuns. But when he spoke his surroundings were quiet so he was heard quite clearly.

"Who said that?" Roger hissed. "Come here, you little sod!"

There was a pause. But then a littleun with heavy face paint covering his freckles slowly stepped forward. He was the one and only Percival Wemys Madison. This poked Ralph (who had snapped out from his thoughts about Jack in Castle Rock) and Piggy's interest. They stepped forward as well.

Roger looked down at his favourite littleun. His eyes showed a smallest hint of surprise. He hadn't thought Percival would go against him. "Tell me what you mean."

Percival was unnerved by the chief's hard stare. But Simon's forgiving smile flashed in his head and he knew he had to do a right thing for the dead boy. "There's no beast," he said in a small voice, quoting Simon's words. "It's only us."

Roger burst into a forced laughter. "You are batty," he said. "And your point is...?"

"We killed him!" Percival was going to cry now. "There's no beast, it's only..."

Roger smacked him with his spear before he had more chance to speak. Percival landed on his side on the ground, and Piggy unconsciously touched his own scar on his cheek. "I told you I hate crybabies," Roger said. He looked around sharply. "So, anyone else thinks the same as this little snot?"

"There's no beast!" suddenly Ralph screamed. "Simon was right and y'all killed him!"

Roger snapped his head threateningly at him but Ralph didn't even budge. The hatred towards the chief flooded inside Ralph. Ralph was going to speak more when another voice interrupted them.

"I vote for no ghosts!" Piggy said loudly. "Remember that, all of you!"

"You shut up, you fat slug!" a bigun shouted at him.

Piggy didn't care. He kept talking. "There's no beast! Y'all can believe there is one, but believe me, there isn't any!"

Roger looked like he was going to throw his spear at him. His right hand man noticed that and decided to speak up. "So... there's anymore who agreed with these useless newcomers?" Maurice asked, banging his spear to get their attention.

Mutters of agreement and movements from the most of the littleuns so they were standing behind Ralph and Piggy's backs angered Roger. But he could do nothing. Something cold gripped his heart and he felt strangely fearful. He hadn't felt this way since... since the Donald incident.

"Fine!" he screamed, making the biguns near him jumped up in surprise. "Do what you want! But I'm going off on my own! No meat for you little ungrateful brats!" he took his spear and stared hard at them. "Anyone who wants to come can come too!"

Then he left the clearing and into the forest. Maurice, Henry, some of the littleuns, and all the biguns followed him. But the remaining littleuns found themselves pulling Robert's arm.

"Don't go!"

Robert smiled apologetically at them. "I'm sorry, boys," he said in a way a mother would tell her child she didn't have any candy for them. "I've got to go."

"But why?" Walter whined.

Robert couldn't answer that. With a small pat at Walter's back, he was gone.

* * *

It was quite many of them. The littleuns who stayed were more than the ones who left, and Ralph was relieved. But suddenly one of them, the smallest one named Peter, began to cry. Piggy and Samneric immediately came towards him.

"It's okay," Ralph heard them assured him. He heard the little boy muttering Robert's name and his cries came louder. Peter was the number one member of Robert's Fan Club (if that existed at all) and the bigun's loss truly broke him.

Ralph approached the littleun and crouched in front of him. "Then why are you here?" he asked gently. His hand wiped the tears and snot and clay and blood off the boy's face.

Peter sniffed. "Because it was Simon," he managed to say.

"And you know that you've done wrong, right?"

Peter nodded. The littleuns, Piggy, and Samneric sat around them, staring at them in immense curiosity.

"Then you've done the right thing by staying here." Ralph looked around at the other boys. Then he stood. "I'm your chief now. We should continue the fire rescue, so we can get out from here. No more slacking and fooling around, you hear me?"

The boys cheered half-heartedly.

* * *

Jack knew what the other biguns were doing. They were hunting him. That didn't fear him, though. He had been the Chief, and fear was the last thing he had felt. Besides, that made Castle Rock empty.

The ex-chief rushed towards the rocky mountain and climbed. He hadn't climbed in God-knows-how-long, and his legs protested. Jack ignored his body response and kept climbing. He knew going this way was much more dangerous than climbing the usual passage up Castle Rock, but climbing from the back of the forest was much safer. Besides, nobody else knew this passage but him.

Jack entered the fort. It was empty, and he climbed onto the highest 'room' in it. It was his personal place, the place where he slept. He sneaked into the place, and gaped.

That bloody Roger had left it empty. He had thought the dark boy would use it, since he was the new Chief and all. That meant this place was untouched for ages, which was good. Nobody would suspect him being here and checked this place.

Jack laid down on the battered leaves and pig's skin which he had used as his bed. His mind was spinning, and he knew he had to do something. Roger had to learn his lessons. And he realised that new boy, Ralph, could help him.

He closed his eyes. He knew he would be safe. At least for now. They wouldn't be back till the evening, which he could use the time to sleep.

In a matter of minutes, Jack fell asleep, and his dream was filled by his blurry childhood and a little boy and him singing lullabies.

* * *

A/N: Alright, this is not quite a filler, because there's an important scene in this one, but still unbeta'd. I kinda like this one. :D


	13. Rest, it's an Order

_Chapter Thirteen: Rest, it's an Order_

* * *

When the night came, Ralph sneaked out his shelter only to see a pair of bright blue eyes from behind a tree and a gesture to follow him. Ralph smiled weakly, took something from near the dead fire and followed him into the forest. They walked in silence until they reached the lower ground, Jack's hideout, his 'death place'.

It was dark, but Ralph could still see some footsteps on the ground, the grass was down, the bushes were messy, and the trees had scars as if someone was angry and decided to scar them. Ralph touched one of them and realised that it was done by a spear.

"They were here." Jack said silently.

"You know that," Ralph answered. "That's why you fled."

Jack nodded slightly. "Got the spear?"

Ralph gave him the spear. Jack had asked for one since he needed it for self-defence. Ralph had taken one of the littleun's who had forgotten to take it with him, since that was the only spear available. The rest of them were either had their owner or was taken by Roger and his lot.

Jack threw the spear and watched it as it stabbed one of the trees. "Not as good as mine," he said irritatingly.

"Well, that's the only one I've got." Ralph retorted. "No complaining."

Jack sneered and took the spear. "Whatever. I think I can use this for awhile."

"What did you do in Castle Rock?"

"Sleeping," Jack said, plopping down under the rock. Ralph sat next to him. "Nobody was there."

"Lucky you," Ralph said, yawning. "And now _I_ need sleep."

"Rough day, it is," Jack said. "You lay down then. What happened there?"

Ralph laid sprawled down on the grass next to redhead, watching the shadows from the trees fell to his face. Below the darkness, Ralph could see Jack looked healthier, and there was a new scar on his shoulder which he hadn't seen before. Ralph frowned… he had seen that face before, but where?

"Hey, Earth to Ralph." Jack flicked his fingers in front of the blond's face. "Come in, Ralph…"

"Oh!" Ralph snapped back to reality and didn't waste any time to retell what had happened back in the clearing. He told Jack about the disintegration of the tribe and how Roger had exploded. He also told him about the littleuns incident with Robert.

"I wonder what will happen," Jack said in wonder. "I can use a bigun… being a spy or something."

"And what's next?"

Jack shrugged. "As much as I hate to admit this, I don't know. I'm not the bloody thinker."

"How can you make one a spy when the biguns don't believe in you?"

Jack snorted. "I'm their Chief. Of course they'll believe in me."

"You _were_ their chief."

Jack glared at him, but didn't say anything. Ralph decided to speak instead. "They don't remember you. Nobody remember you."

"I'm in their farthest side of mind now."

Then a memory hit Ralph. "Robert remembers you, y'know."

"Really?" Jack stared at Ralph with interest. "I know that babysitter has bigger brain than all of us. Well, all but me, of course. What did he tell you?"

"He spoke about the Chiefs. I wondered who else was chief other than Roger."

"I see." Jack said absently, obviously was thinking.

Ralph knew what was on his mind. "He can be the spy, can't he?"

Jack's eyes lit up. "Yes, he can."

* * *

Speaking about Robert, he was trying to sleep in his space in Castle Rock when a littleun, Michael, stumbled into his 'room' sobbing. The bigun woke up and asked, "What happened?"

Michael didn't answer, but his sobs became louder. "Shush," Robert chided, pulling the boy onto his lap. "You will wake everyone. Now what happened?"

The boy crawled towards the only source of light, a lit stick in the corner. Robert followed, and gaped when he saw the state the other was in.

Michael's painted face was covered with bruises, and his eye was bruised so badly it couldn't be opened. His nose was bleeding. Robert gasped and pulled the boy into his arms. He didn't need to ask who did that.

He took his private coconut, which filled with water, and a small pig's skin. With those he cleaned the wounds on Michael's face. The littleun winced in pain.

"What have you done today?" the bigun asked worriedly. Michael was one of the few littleuns who followed Roger. It was ironic that he was the one who got tortured.

"The chief told me to make Samneric join us," Michael sobbed. "But they didn't want to."

"And the chief beat you."

"Henry did."

"Someone else was beaten?"

Michael shrugged, wincing as he did so. "I don't know, Robert."

Anger flared inside Robert. This was the reason he didn't want to join Ralph's side, as much as he knew the wrong thing all of them had done. He continued to wash the wounds in silence, and finally allowed the littleun to sleep with him.

Robert knew he had to do something.

* * *

Jack stared at the dark sky. Ralph was almost asleep next to him. They continued to chat, each other were careful not to go into a touchy subject. It was obvious to the redhead that Ralph was trying hard not to sleep, despite of his words earlier.

"Sleep." Jack said in a husky voice.

Ralph grinned weakly and yawned. "Suddenly don't want to," he said.

"It's an order."

"Can't get over of being chief, can you?" Ralph joked.

It was actually a touchy subject to Jack, but the redhead was used not to show emotions. "I'll always be their Chief."

Ralph rolled his eyes and yawned once again. Jack sighed in irritation. "D'you want me to knock you out or something?"

"No," Ralph mumbled, sleep was obviously getting over him. "Just sing that song."

Jack's eyebrow twitched and he cleared his throat. "Fine," he said. And then he began to sing. His voice was hushed but still beautiful as the one Ralph had heard back under the cave.

_Huna blentyn ar fy mynwes_

_Clyd a chynnes ydyw hon_

Ralph hummed the song softly and he fell asleep almost immediately. Meanwhile, Jack, who had no idea his companion had fallen asleep, kept singing the Welsh lullaby.

_Breichiau mam sy'n dynn amdanat_

_Cariad mam sy dan fy mron_

At this point, Jack realised that Ralph had fallen asleep on his stomach, using his arms as his pillow, his breaths even and quiet. The redhead smiled inwardly. It had been ages since he had a company. Ralph was alright; the blond wasn't his type of a friend but since he was the only one who knew about him ran away, he was forced to enjoy Ralph's company. Not like he complained.

"I think I've seen you before," he said softly, his hand stroking the messy blond locks. As if he just realised what he had done, he snapped his hand away from Ralph's hair and jumped up, grabbing the coconut Ralph had given him, despite of his persistence he didn't need it.

"I'll take some water," he muttered to himself and with that he ran away.

Jack didn't know that Ralph's eyes opened just after he rushed to the river.

* * *

A/N: This is not a Jalph fic, as much I love Jalph XD

Still unbeta'd so the mistakes are mine. We all wish Nightkill well, okay?

A filler, yes. I always love it when Jack sings to Ralph. :D

I admit I'm a bit losing focus in writing the story, so sorry if there's some inconsistency in here. I'm working hard to finish it, tho. Tell me if I have something wrong! And I managed to make it to Chapter 18! Cheers! :)


	14. Forced Savagery and Flashbacks

_Chapter Fourteen: Forced Savagery and Flashbacks_

* * *

Days later, when Ralph went back to the clearing, Piggy and the littleuns were gathering on the corner of it. He patted the fat boy's back and walked inside the shelter. Piggy didn't need to ask where he had been, he could figure it out on his own. He had told the littleuns that he had gone to the river for a morning drink, so they didn't ask him either.

"Did you see Piers?" Piggy asked. "And Walter?"

The littleuns shook their heads. Piggy peeked into the shelter and asked the same to Ralph. The blond merely shrugged. "I haven't seen them. Why?"

"They're gone!" Piggy whined. He sounded like he wanted to wail.

"The beastie's gotten them!" one of the littleuns screamed.

"There's no beast!" Ralph snapped at him. "How much I need to tell you?"

There was a pause. Samneric stepped forward and tugged at Ralph's arms. "We can still—"

"—look for them."

"Yeah, good idea," Ralph said. "We need to look into the forest. Samneric, you two go up with Piggy and light the fire. You three better stay fire-watching. Have y'all eaten?"

The littleuns pointed at the scraps of bananas and other fruits. Percival gave Ralph some fruit and took his spear. "You eat first, Ralph," he said in a manner of a child giving a present to their parents. "Then we can look for them."

* * *

When Robert woke up, Michael was still asleep, curled into a foetal position. Robert stroked his hair and was relieved to see his wounds had dried. Roger had smacked him with his spear, it seemed. As he continued to stroke the littleun's hair, blurry faces of his own siblings back at England flashed inside his mind. That was the first time he missed them so much.

"Whip him."

The two words penetrated Robert's thoughts and he jumped to his feet, took his spear and walked out. Near the entrance to Castle Rock there was a sight that would scar his mind forever.

There was Maurice, holding a rope-like vine and a littleun—Piers, Robert realised with a jolt—was tied and laid on his stomach. Robert covered his mouth with his hands when he realised what was going to happen.

Then Maurice lifted the vine and as he whipped the poor boy's back, who continued to scream. The rest of the hunters began to laugh, including Rupert who was gripping Walter's shoulders. Couldn't help it anymore, Robert rushed towards them.

"What are you doing?!"

Roger pushed him against the rock wall. "Making those useless kids join us," the chief hissed between the laughs.

Robert winced at the pain on his back. "You're torturing them!"

"And now you tell me?" Roger hissed. Robert glanced at the crying littleun and Maurice's big grin. "Who cares about them but you?"

"Stop it!" Robert struggled to break free, but despite of his smaller body, Roger had the upper hand. In a matter of minutes, Robert's face was scarred from the knife the chief had pulled out his pocket.

Roger hurriedly called Henry and Harold. "Hold him," he ordered. "Make him _watch_."

So, as the torture continued, Robert could do nothing but watch as the savagery was forced, again, into the not-so-innocent littleuns.

* * *

Ralph came later that night, after all of them were asleep. He found Jack was drinking from the coconut. That brought a triumphant smile on Ralph's face.

"Thought you don't need it."

Jack looked back at him, his blue eyes blazing in the dark night. "Oh hello, it's you."

Ralph crouched in front of him, leaning against a log. He was exhausted to the bones, but he wanted to see Jack so it didn't matter. Jack stared at him deeply, and Ralph started to feel uncomfortable. "What?"

"How jumpy," Jack observed. "I reckon your search was unsuccessful?"

"More than that," Ralph grumbled. "We didn't find them. Peter started shouting nonsense about the Beast got them and ran away like frenzy. Piggy found him in the shelter and it took us hours to calm him down."

"I know where they are."

Ralph jerked towards him. "Where? Are they in danger?"

"Worse," Jack huffed. "Roger took them."

"Kidnapped them?" Ralph asked in disbelief. It had never crossed the new chief's mind. "Torture them? Kill them?"

"Who knows what's going on that insane sadist?"

"Then we'll take them back!" Ralph said enthusiastically, almost frantically. "They don't have any right to take them with force! We'll bring them back to the clearing, with my tribe!"

"Always the civil one, Mr. Uptight," Jack snorted. "_Rights_, hm? Since when this island has rights? You must've a brain as big as a canary."

"What do you mean?" Ralph asked, truly offended.

"You and that fat lard... plus some little kids. And he has his hunters and spears and their prisoners—if there's any—what do you expect?"

Ralph's body sagged, his enthusiasm gone with the wind. He was silent for a while. Jack was right, of course. The littleuns, save for Percival, were incapable of using spears and fight. They fought quite often, but that wasn't the fight Ralph was thinking about. Roger and his lot were capable of killing.

"You're in my side, right, Jack?"

"I'm in nobody's side." Jack said easily. "That's what a chief does."

"But..."

"If you expect me to help you, you're sorely mistaken."

Ralph couldn't speak. He actually wished Jack would be in his side, defending him from Roger. He had helped him, after all, he deserved any sort of grateful payment! He jumped up, anger rushed inside him. "You sound like a coward. You don't want people to see you. You want to keep hiding here, just like a coward you are!"

Jack looked up. "Say that again," he hissed, sounded strangely like Roger.

"You're a bloody coward! Coward!"

Suddenly Jack tackled him to the grass, and they got into a fight soon enough. They rolled on the ground, the grass glued on their bodies. Ralph might be the athletic one, but Jack had been the Chief, and Chiefs didn't give up without a fight. The redhead had been into more fights than Ralph was, after all.

They continued to roll on the ground, flying fists to each other bodies. Until Jack's scrawny leg found its way to Ralph face and he kicked. Hard.

Ralph's body flew, and he grunted when he landed on his bum on the ground. He was going to launch towards Jack again but the redhead knew it. Jack tackled him once again, now holding his hands above his head.

"I don't want to fight with you." Jack said slowly. "Don't make me hate you more."

Ralph narrowed his eyes, staring at the eyes that reminded him with someone from his blurry childhood. "You hate me?"

"Just cut this crap." Jack's tone held a hint of a threat.

And with that, Ralph did. He coughed and wiped his sweaty brow. Jack, still with narrowed eyes of suspicion, released him.

"I'll take some water," Ralph said, almost embarrassedly. He grabbed the coconut and rushed to the river before Jack could say something.

* * *

"Jack."

"Hm?"

"I have a question."

Jack didn't say anything, and Ralph took it as a signal to continue.

"Why now, Jack?"

"Why what?"

"Why now the Beast wakes up?"

Jack stared at him with concealed wonder. As if he wanted to keep the answer as a secret. He was silent for a long while, before answering.

"I have you to blame."

Ralph was gobsmacked. "W-what?"

"I know there were new people when y'all came here. I heard the conch, y'know. And I know nobody from us would be so stupid as if to blow the conch. That was a sign there was a newcomer."

Ralph's head jerked at the mention of the white thing he, Piggy, and Percival had found. "Why Roger was so angry when we found the conch? He almost killed Piggy in his first night!"

Jack smiled slightly. "I used it before. If someone wanted to speak they had to hold it. Roger never found it useful, so after he 'killed' me he threw it to the beach and forbade the boys to go there. He doesn't want the others to remember me."

"They didn't remember you anymore? Not even a trace?"

"People don't think about the dead every day." Jack said impatiently. "People forget."

Ralph paused. "I guess you're right."

"They vaguely remembered their old Chief, the biguns like Robert," Jack mused. "But the littleuns were too small to remember. Roger took my knife, y'know. And the bone necklace. He wants people to remember he's the only chief."

They were silent afterwards. Until Ralph broke it at the mention of the knife.

"You said you've been thinking."

"Mm?"

"About England, your hometown. Your past. You said you remember more than the others."

"And?"

"I think I've seen the knife before. You remember anything about it?"

Jack's eyes flashed. "My father gave it to me," he said bitterly. "The only thing he gave me. He always wanted me to keep it but I never wanted to."

"What happened?"

"None of your business."

"It is if it's about something I've seen before."

"Is it?" Jack mocked. But at Ralph pleading look, Jack finally gave in, something he rarely did. "I hate him. I hate him more than anything in this world. I took it because Mother gave it for safety. As if I'd use it, I'd thought."

Ralph couldn't actually imagine someone hated his parents. His dad was rarely there, but he knew he loved his son and wife. His mom was a loving one and he couldn't be more grateful. Maybe Jack wasn't that lucky. "More than you hate... er, Roger?"

"Roger?" Jack let out a bitter laugh. "I never hated him, back in the merry old England. But now... yes. More than I hate that bloody _Chief_."

"What happened?"

Suddenly Jack shoved Ralph so the blond shoulder connected with a log. Pain blossomed in Ralph's injured shoulder but he paid it no heed. "Stop saying that!" the redhead snapped. "You sound like an annoying psychiatrist!"

"S-sorry." Ralph, still in shock, apologised, rubbing his shoulder.

Jack didn't seem to hear him. He continued to rant as he paced back and forth with a furious expression under the faded face paints. "Want to know what happened? He left us, okay! He has another family out there! A family with a better son than me! A better wife than my drunken mother! There!" he glared at Ralph, face as red as his hair. "Satisfied?!"

Ralph didn't say anything. He merely watched as Jack sagged down, exhausted and trying to control his breath. After a minute, which felt like hours, he took the coconut and gave it to the redhead, who took it and drank like he hadn't in ages.

Jack sighed. He took off his cap and ruffled his own hair. "He's probably a Navy."

"Who?"

"My father. He remarried when I was two or three. I have a stepbrother. Sometimes his family came and we played together until I was around six. I hate him too. I loved him so much it hurt, and then my mom told me they would never come back. I told you, I almost killed myself then."

"You sound like you hate them a lot."

Jack forced out a laugh. "You don't say? I hate many people. I don't trust anyone, not even Roger."

Sensing Jack's darkened mood, Ralph smiled weakly at him. "I remember my dad's a Navy too." Ralph said, sounding strangely like an excited Percival. "Tell me your surname."

Jack merely lifted his eyebrow. "What for?"

"If we got rescued..."

Jack scowled cynically. Ralph ignored him.

"...I can tell Dad to look for yours and we can meet again!"

"Be careful," Jack sneered, actually was hiding a smile. "You sound just like the barmy Simon. And why exactly you want to see me again?"

"You're alright, I guess. You're not like the Chief."

"Roger, you mean. Of course I'm not."

"Yeah. So, what's your surname?"

"I can't really remember." Jack said slowly. "It starts with M. Meri something."

Ralph's eyes widened. "Merridew?"

Jack blinked in realisation. "That's it! How d'you know?"

Ralph was so shocked he almost couldn't speak. "B-because... it's mine."

* * *

A/N: Still unbeta'd, but I've reread this several times. Hope I didn't miss anything. Nightkill's in again, guys! Whee! But she's apparently busy with her school, so yeah. :)

This is why both of them were like 'have we met before?'. Told you it's an AU. And not a Jalph because I won't make an incest fics over adorable 12 year old boys, right? (In this case Jack's a year older than Ralph). I mean what? :)

Don't kill me, I made them brothers with something in mind. I want to show you that the relation between the civil and the savage is only two sides of a coin, which was close. People can go savage because they want to _defy_ the civil rules (which is in Chapter 15). Besides, I had an original story with their names as my characters and I made them stepbrothers which inspired this one. ^^

And I'm quite impressed with all reviews I've gotten. Thanks a lot for reviewing! *throws boulder shaped confetti*.

For 1-800 peppermints: Yeah, bad enough that Simon died (I don't like that either) but I can't imagine what would happen if he lives. Imagine if they didn't kill him, Ralph and Piggy wouldn't run into the forest and nobody would believe him about Jack, even if Simon tried to explain. Poor Simon *weeps*. And 'y'all' is made to make their words less formal. I thought it's ok, because my beta didn't change or say anything about it. I dunno... maybe I'll change it. Thanks a lot for reviewing!


	15. I'm Bloody, Dead, and Free!

_Chapter Fifteen: I'm Bloody, Dead, and Free!_

* * *

Jack jumped to his feet so abruptly he almost fell again. "Are you kidding me?!"

Ralph blinked. "Of course not! Does that mean...?"

"We're bloody _stepbrothers_, it seems." Jack said the word as if it were poison.

"And you were the one singing that song to me when I was little!"

Jack sneered. "As if that's so important."

"But Jack!"

Jack was drowned in an immense amount of childish hate he didn't want to hear anything from his newly-discovered stepbrother. "I spent years trying to forget you and Father as well. And my mom's taught me enough hate!"

"I don't remember anything about it!"

"Who say I do? What I remember is I was locked up while Mother and yours were fighting and you were crying like a crybaby you are and she came and took you away and hit me for coming near you!"

"We were just kids!"

Jack shoved him so hard his head connected with the same log which had hurt his shoulder. "No way in hell would you be my stepbrother! Get away from me!"

Without another word, he took his spear and disappeared into the forest.

* * *

Jack stopped near the river.

_No way in hell Ralph's my stepbrother!_

"I can't believe this!" he practically screamed. He stabbed the nearest tree, tears slowly came down from his eyes. "Why now, for the Queen's sake?! Why the hell now?! Why when I've already forgotten?!"

He stabbed the poor tree continuously, let out his anger and hurt he had had since he was around six years old, merely a little boy. Ralph's confession had opened things inside Jack's mind; things that were locked in the farthest side of his mind. Hatred towards his own family.

_Listen, Jack_, he could hear his mother said mockingly. _Your father will not come back here again._

Jack could still remember his shock. _Why, Mother?_

His drunken mother sneered—now Jack remembered where he had gotten his famous Chief-like sneer—and lifted the bottle of beer she had been holding. _Because he and his family are low and useless twats._

_But, Mother..._

_What? Missing your ittle wittle stepbrother already? He won't come here anymore._

_Why, Mother?_

_Because he and his bloody family hate you. They hate you._

_They love me!_

_Oh, really? Then you wait, my son, _his mother had shaken the bottle in front of his eyes. _Jus' you wait, my darling Jackie. Just wait for them to come back here._

They never did.

His mother's words seeped into his inner core and she made him grow up as a distrustful person with hatred towards people. Jack collapsed under the tree, gasping for breath and looking for water. He cursed himself for not bringing the coconut.

_Who cares about the coconut?!_

Jack cupped his hand and took some water. Feeling exasperated of the few amount of water his cupped hands could get, he bent down and drank like an animal. After a while, he stopped drinking. The water rippled in front of him, and he could see his face, the old face paints almost couldn't be seen.

His eyes widened when he realised something.

_I'm going civil. I think and talk and eat the fruit. I haven't hunt! I'm almost as civil as bloody Ralph!_

_I don't want to be like that boy!_

Somehow, that enraged him. He banged his spear against the ground, everywhere he could reach. His anger supplied him more energy and adrenaline. He screamed to himself, chanting the hunting songs he used to sing.

_"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"_

He looked around and saw his lot around him, even Roger, grinning below their face paints. He could almost feel the weight of his knife in his pocket, and also his bone necklace on his neck. "Time to hunt and have fun!" he shouted.

"The Chief has spoken!" he could hear one of the boys shouted, and all of them cheered. Jack spun on his heel, waving his spear around. He hadn't felt this happy, this... _free_, for ages.

_Squeak!_

_A piglet!_

"Kill it!" he screamed to himself, too caught up in his memories and hallucination. He ran towards the poor piglet and stabbed it. He wondered why the others didn't do the same with the poor piglet. They followed him, right? But when he looked back, his lot was still there, grinning with anticipation.

"The Chief's captured our food!" he could hear them cheering. Jack grinned at them and sat down. They sat down and just stared at him. Jack looked at their faces, the paints were faded too. Just like his.

"What's going on with your faces?"

"We ran out of face paints, Chief," Robert whispered. He had always been the painting boy.

Jack tilted his head in understanding. "Alright. This one," he said finally. "Is our face paint. After this, we can't kill piglets anymore." Why he killed this piglet, he couldn't be sure himself. "We can only kill sows and boars. It's our new rule."

Jack lifted his spear, now smeared with the piglet's blood and grinned maniacally. His finger touched the bloodied spear and rubbed it on his cheek. His grin widened as he smeared the blood on his face, reminding himself of the savagery he had forgotten.

The other boys grinned too. He touched Roger's face, who sat next to him, painstakingly painted his face. Roger merely stared at him, but Jack didn't care. After he was done with Roger, Jack moved towards Bill, and Harold, and Robert, and Rupert, and Douglas, and Maurice, and then Henry. Eventually all of them were face painted and they cheered, praising their Chief.

Suddenly Jack yawned. He blinked and the lot jumped up. "We're going hunting, Chief! The real pig this time! We'll have so much fun, like you want us to!" Maurice said excitedly.

Jack wanted to go, but suddenly he felt so exhausted he couldn't even stand up. "You go first," he said, managed to make his voice sounded cold. Maurice and the others nodded and they left.

The redhead chief blinked, trying to kick his sleepiness away but realised he couldn't. He yawned once again, and in a matter of minutes, he was asleep. He could hear the biguns walked away from him, still cheering and chanting.

Jack smiled inwardly. He finally could be free from everything, his anger, his life, his hatred. He was a true savage and he knew it. Being a savage closed out his problems. No savage had problems.

As soon as he was asleep, the hallucination was lost, and the moon shone around a sleeping redhead whose face was newly painted. A dead piglet laid near his body and a bloodied spear tight in his grip.

Around him were trees, whose trunks were heavily painted.

* * *

The day was quite uneventful for Jack, and so was the evening. He sat near the river, drinking and relaxing. He knew nobody would go to the river, since today wasn't their hunting day. He knew Ralph wouldn't come out until midnight—if he still had nerve after his outburst—but he could feel someone walked behind him. He gripped his spear and stood up straight, ready to attack.

A shadow sneaked towards him, and Jack narrowed his eyes. He half-hoped it was Roger, so he could stab him on the heart and get it over with. Oh, maybe no. He could torture Roger the way he had been tortured, maybe even worse.

"Who is that?" an unrecognisable voice called from the shadow's direction. It sounded like a bigun, which made relief flooded in Jack's insides. He knew he could handle a bigun.

Jack didn't answer. But the shadow came closer. Jack's eyes widened when he saw the scarred face.

Robert stared back at him, the empty coconut he was holding fell onto his foot.

* * *

Robert watched as Jack crossed his arms in front of his chest, his mouth still opened like a fish.

"Well if this is Robert the babysitter," Jack sneered. "What are you doing, going out after curfew? Isn't it the sleeping time for the little children and the nanny?"

"Shut up!" Robert suddenly screamed, his dam of emotion finally burst. "You don't know what happened, so shut the hell up!"

Jack lifted an eyebrow but didn't say anything. _Bloody hell_, Robert thought, _being back from the dead and still being a stuck up git_.

"What happened?" Jack asked finally since no answer came from the other bigun. His tone was no longer insulting, but filled with curiosity. "Come and sit down here."

Robert slowly, hesitantly, obeyed. "You're back from the dead," he said. "You're real, aren't you?"

Jack let out a hoarse laughter. "Who said I'm dead?" he asked sarcastically.

"But…"

"I'm not dead. I'm just out entertaining you as a Singing Beast."

Robert jerked from his seat. "You were the Beast?" he asked incredulously. "You were the one we hunted?"

"Seemed so."

"But I think the Singing Beast is only…"

"…a story make up by Roger to keep y'all away from me." Jack said slowly. "Apparently so."

Robert nodded. "Who freed you?"

"Those newcomers." Jack didn't feel the need to tell Robert about his stepbrother. "Ralph and the fat one."

"Piggy?"

"Ah, yes. That one."

They fell into an uncomfortable silence. But then Robert remembered why he was there. Without any warning, he jumped and his fist flew across Jack's face, connecting with his jaw.

The redhead narrowed his eyes in sudden anger. "What's that for?" he snarled.

"For being the reason all of this happened!"

Jack's eyes were still narrow, but it showed Robert a hint of confusion as well. The bigun broke down, his love towards the little boys finally overcame him. He clawed on his face, drawing blood, and cried hoarsely.

Jack merely watched him, saying nothing and not looking away from the bigun. When Robert was done, he was lying down on the grass, still trembling. "You done?" he asked simply. "Now tell me what you mean."

Robert opened his mouth and told Jack what had happened back in Castle Rock. How Roger and the others had tortured the children to make them join his tribe.

Jack felt his insides were blank after the other was done retelling the story. He never understood what Robert found in those littleuns. He never loved another child so Robert's affections were beyond Jack's comprehension. But Robert was the best bigun he could rely on, as much as Jack hated to admit it.

"He wants me dead." Jack said, his tone resembling a statement and not question.

Robert nodded. "If you were he'd stop torturing them."

"Then kill me."

"What?"

"Kill me." Jack said coldly. "Show him I'm dead."

Robert stared at Jack's eyes for a while but then his eyes widened in understanding. Jack spread his arms wide, as if accepting the dark fate which was going to crash down upon him. So Robert lifted his spear and brought it down sharply.

* * *

A/N: Still unbeta'd, but I've reread this. Hope I didn't miss anything. :)

And oh Jack, no!

Oh, I've completed this story! Whee! So I think I'll post this regularly. If Nightkill still haven't sent me the beta'd version, Chapter 16 will be out on Thursday/Friday. Thanks for reading this far, and if you'd like, review! :)


	16. Ungrateful Chief and a Crying One

_Chapter Sixteen: Ungrateful Chief and a Crying One_

* * *

Piggy was going into the shelter to get some sleep when he heard the bushes rustling and fear gripped his insides. Who's that? The fat boy knew Ralph wouldn't come back from Jack's place until several hours before morning, so that couldn't be him.

For the first time, much to his annoyance, he was proved wrong. Ralph emerged into the clearing, walking so slowly he looked like he was sleepwalking.

Piggy approached him, and was sure that the boy was awake. "Ralph. What's wrong?"

The blond chief shook his head. Piggy didn't need to ask once again because he knew that there was obviously something wrong with him. His eyes were drawn and dark. Piggy remembered how Ralph communicated with the others that morning. When he ordered the twins and Peter to do the fire watch, he seemed out of place. He was tired, obviously. He looked like he had cried.

And Piggy wondered from where he got that ability to study anyone.

"Ralph?"

Ralph merely shook his head and walked into the shelter. When Piggy decided to follow some minutes later, he was shocked to hear little sobs from the shelter.

"Ralph?"

Ralph jerked awake and blinked the tears away from his eyes. "Oh, hello, it's you."

"Crying isn't good, Ralph."

Ralph didn't say anything.

"My auntie said crying isn't good for your face. She said it could tire you faster, and for me crying isn't good for my asthma."

"Sucks to your auntie."

Piggy smiled weakly, forcibly. He didn't like when someone spoke bad about his auntie. But this was Ralph, so Piggy decided to let it pass. "I wish I had my auntie's candy jar," he said, in an attempt to cheer the other boy with the way he knew best. "That could make you smile for days."

Ralph rolled his eyes, but still looked sad. They were silent before Ralph finally broke it.

"Piggy."

Piggy looked up at him, his cracked specs and the darkness made it difficult.

"If... if you met someone who hated you... but you didn't even remember him... what would you do?"

Piggy's mind spun, trying to find the wisest answer possible.

"People never like me and my auntie. They call us names. I didn't understand what those names meant, and I still do," he said slowly. "But she said I have to smile at them all the time and they will love me in time. She said people hate you because they want to be like you but they can't. I'm not really sure about your question, but remember what she said: 'the only way to make hatred disappear is to love and not to hate more'."

It wasn't the best answer Piggy could give. And it didn't seem to be the answer Ralph wanted either, but the blond smiled and patted Piggy's back. "Thanks, Piggy."

* * *

When they woke up that morning, the clearing was quiet. Way too quiet in Ralph's opinion. He walked out the shelter and nobody was there.

Piggy apparently woke up earlier than he did, because he was eating the banana in the corner. Ralph remembered when the group was still intact, Piggy used to sit there and tell them stories. It felt so long ago the memories started to blur in Ralph's mind.

"Piggy, where are the rest?"

"I don't know. Maybe fruit picking?" Piggy asked, offering Ralph a coconut.

Ralph took it. "We won't wait for them. We'll go up and do the fire duty."

* * *

The abduction went quite well. Roger nodded in satisfaction when Henry, Maurice, Harold, and Rupert dragged the remaining littleuns who had stayed with Ralph up Castle Rock. They squirmed and tried hard to break free, but the biguns' grips were hard on them.

The remaining littleuns were Percival, Samneric, Peter, David, and Stanley. The rest of them had been kidnapped before or came voluntarily to them in the need of meat. Roger smiled sadistically as the boys were half-dragged into Castle Rock. "Welcome," he hissed.

Percival's eyes widened when he saw the other littleuns crouching fearfully in the corner. He wanted to reach out for them, to shake them, to shout at them why they were here, and to knock some sense into their heads. He snarled and struggled harder.

"Percival," Roger said in a low voice. "Always the fierce one. You have that spirit of a hunter... but sad enough you didn't use it."

"We killed Simon!"

Maurice, who was holding him, pushed him so hard the freckled boy fell and his cheek scraped the sharp, rocky ground. He hissed in pain, the blood making new face paint on his formerly clean cheek. Roger crouched in front of him, staring at him for a while before looking up at Bill.

"Whip him."

* * *

Robert was climbing his way up Castle Rock, his ears were filled with screams of pain from the hunter's headquarters. He climbed faster, his hand gripped his bloodied spear tightly. His legs protested as he forced them to go faster and he was forced to stop for a while.

The littleun's screams still filled his mind and he shuddered. He continued to climb and finally he reached the entrance of the fort.

"STOP IT!" he screamed.

Bill's hand stopped in the mid-air, the vine he used as a whip against Percival dangling uselessly in his grip. All of them stared at him, dumbfounded. Robert almost never screamed, and when he did everyone gaped at him like a fish. Samneric, Peter, David, and Stanley rushed towards him, hugging his hips and pulling his arm in fear. Even after he had betrayed them, they still loved him. That saddened him so deeply he pulled them into his arms right there.

Roger, however, sobered quickly and he rushed towards Robert. "What do you want?" he hissed, pulled a littleun, who happened to be David, to his side.

"Stop this."

Roger's eye twitched dangerously. Robert knew he wouldn't be reluctant to stab him with his spear right there. So he stood, now so sure of himself.

"I killed the Beast."

* * *

It was the first time all of them saw their chief's control crumbled, although a bit. Roger's lips curled into a wide, dangerous smile as he continued to stare at Robert. Nobody spoke, nobody even dared to breathe.

"How did you find it?" Roger hissed.

"I... encountered it in the forest and I... killed it. Look."

Roger took Robert's spear. He stared at the spear and poked his finger at the blood stained it. The dark chief stared at the blood on his index finger and slowly, painstakingly, rubbed it on his cheek. Robert merely gaped at him, who smiled evilly as he repeated the action.

"Y'know what," he said at the bigun, face now completely painted by Jack's blood. "This is not only about me and... the Beast anymore."

Robert wanted to speak, but Roger cut him off. "There's that bloody newcomer. The newcomer who dares to be chief on his own." Roger let out a hoarse, mocking laugh. "We'll take care of him later. Now, we have to celebrate. You, little useless brats, will stay here with your friends. Don't try to run, or else."

He looked around, still smiling that creepy smile. "We'll go hunting tomorrow."

"But, Chief," Maurice stepped in. "We need fire. And rubbing sticks together takes a long time."

Roger snorted. "We'll steal that fat kid's glasses."

* * *

"We need to go to Castle Rock," Ralph said to Piggy. "They are abducted."

"They're kidnapped?" Piggy asked incredulously.

Ralph wanted to snort. That was exactly how he reacted when Jack said the same. His mind stopped at the mention of that name.

Jack. _His stepbrother._

He had come back to Jack's hideout only to find nothing. He had assumed that Jack didn't want to be found, so he had gone back to the clearing. He had felt so sad he'd cried, but Piggy and his words amused him and he appreciated his efforts.

"Ralph?"

Ralph was snapped out his reverie. "What?"

"We're going tomorrow."

"Why not now?" Ralph asked.

"I can't see well, Ralph." Piggy said reasonably.

"I..."

Ralph's words were cut by something from the distance. To be precise, _sounds_ from the distance.

"Piggy..."

The two boys flinched. "D'you hear that?" Piggy asked. "There's something out there!"

Ralph nodded and they rushed into the nearest shelter, trying to be as quiet as possible. A while later, shadows of boys walked into the clearing. Ralph jerked when there was a spear stabbed into the shelter, merely missed several inches from Ralph's face. He gasped loudly. Piggy shrieked when the shelter started to crumble.

"They're here!" a voice shouted in happiness. That shout was followed by the other's cheers.

Before they had any chance to react, a hand pushed its way into the shelter and hit Piggy's head so hard the fat boy shrieked in pain. The hand pulled away quickly, but Ralph could see it was holding something before it was gone.

"We get it!"

"WHEE!"

And then they ran away, leaving the two boys alone. "Hey!" the blond shouted, scrambling out the shelter. "What have you done?!"

He pulled Piggy out the destroyed shelter. "Are you okay?"

Piggy nodded slowly, but his eyes were unfocused. But suddenly Ralph realised why. It seemed Piggy did as well.

"MY SPECS! THEY TOOK MY SPECS!"

* * *

A boy was sitting near the river, splashing water towards his left shoulder. He winced at the pain and sighed. It was starting to get too quiet in there.

Suddenly there were vague noises and he blinked. Those voices were rough and unrecognisable.

"We're hunting tomorrow."

"We have that fat lard's glasses."

"What if he wanted it back?"

"It depends to the Chief. But I heard he told Maurice to go to the top of Castle Rock. In case if Ralph and Piggy came for the specs."

There was a hoarse laughter. "Or those littleuns."

The boy knew this was going to happen. So when the voices had faded, he stood and rushed towards the back of the forest. He closed his eyes when he arrived on his destination. He opened it again quickly and began climbing.

He knew he had to help Ralph. But he would do it _his_ way.

* * *

A/N: This is Thursday everyone! At least in my place is :D

This is a calm before the storm, enjoy!


	17. Chaos and a Sound

_Chapter Seventeen: Chaos and a Sound_

* * *

A/N: This chapter (and the next two) has gory things, although not that graphic. Like in usual LOTF. I hope you won't be disturbed or something, tho.

* * *

_Roger said the littleuns couldn't go out, but he said nothing about the biguns._

Entertaining himself with that sarcastic thought, Robert made his way slowly into the dark clearing. It was silent and _dead_. He knew that Henry, Bill, and Maurice had taken Piggy's glasses for the tomorrow's feast. But he wasn't here for that.

"Psst, Ralph."

Ralph didn't wake up. Piggy did instead. "Who's that?" he asked carefully.

"Robert."

The fat boy slowly, carefully, crawled out the shelter. He blinked, his beady eyes unfocused without his cracked specs. "I can't really see you. But I know your voice."

Robert held the urge to roll his eyes. "Ralph's asleep?"

Piggy nodded. "I told him to. He didn't want to sleep. He couldn't sleep well for days." He put his hands on his waist in a supposedly threatening manner. Robert rolled his eyes for real this time.

"Why are you here?" Piggy asked after an uncomfortable pause.

"I just... tell him I killed the Beast."

Piggy's eyes widened impossibly. "But it's..."

"I know. It was Jack. He asked for it. He wanted me to show the Chief that he's dead. The littleuns are in Castle Rock and they're tortured. Whipped and such. Jack wanted them to be safe so he..." Robert's voice broke. He really wanted to cry and being taken care of, like those littleuns. "He... he asked me. I was scared. I didn't really mean it... I..."

Piggy just stared at him indescribably, listening to his rants.

Robert was silent, trying to compose himself. "And the Chief will celebrate, so they took your specs. Samneric told me to tell Ralph that things won't be good tomorrow. They wanted me to warn both of you. He told Bill to sharpen two sticks at both ends. We don't know what will happen, but... prepare for the worst."

Piggy blinked nervously. "Ralph and I will go there tomorrow."

* * *

Roger woke up earlier than he used to. He wanted to go back to sleep when his eyes suddenly caught sight of the small passage up to Jack's room. It was dark as usual, and Roger never went up there, the only respect he showed to the 'dead' chief.

_I killed the Beast!_

Robert's words still echoed inside his mind. Roger could feel anger pooled inside him. He wanted to kill Jack with his own bare hands!

But then his mind formed a better plan. His mind played the flashback on the hill, a long time ago.

_"I think I know that knife..."_

Ralph's words had triggered things from Roger's mind, replaying the past he had gone through with Jack.

_I had a stepbrother_, Jack once told him. They were lounging outside the church at that time. Roger vaguely remembered the day. _I used to love him, but now I hate him. My mother said he hates me too. He knew everything I had and I was his shelter._

If he did something to Ralph, that would be a great revenge to Jack. It'd be so good. As good as killing Jack with his own hands. He smiled as the plan got better in his mind. Roger actually wasn't the planning type. But this obviously needed a plan.

So he walked towards a body lying a bit far from his bed and shook Maurice's body. The other bigun slowly woke up, blinking as he did so.

"Chief?" he asked, sitting down immediately.

"I have a new plan." Roger said slowly. "We're not hunting today."

* * *

An enraged Ralph was walking towards Castle Rock, carrying a spear. His battered shoes were stained with white sand and wet from the seawater. Piggy with a stick followed behind. He could barely make out Ralph's form in front of him. He panicked since Ralph walked so fast, his rage made him wanting to get to Castle Rock as soon as possible.

"Slow down, Ralph! I can't see you! Mind me!"

Ralph slowed his pace and waited until Piggy was ready to climb up the rocky mountain. Ralph decided to leave Piggy alone on the lower side of the mountain, far below the entrance to Castle Rock. It was no use for him to climb further, after all.

"I'll be back," he assured a blind and worried Piggy.

Ralph looked up at the top of the mountain and saw Maurice. The bigun suddenly shouted.

"THEY'RE HERE!"

* * *

Roger walked out Castle Rock and saw Ralph glaring at him. The chief narrowed his eyes. "Welcome," he hissed, his voice almost drowned by the sounds of water.

Ralph jumped so he was standing in front of the chief. "What have you done?!"

Roger merely lifted his eyebrow.

The cheers and shrieks from the boys who were settled on the top of the mountain with Maurice shocked Ralph. He looked up and saw many of the littleuns, their previously clean face now painted heavily. It looked precisely like when Ralph saw them for the first time.

He looked down and the anger flared once again when he saw Roger. "You took them away! You kidnapped them!"

Roger merely stared at him, as if waiting what the other chief would say.

"You're a beast, a swine, and a bloody, bloody thief! A kidnapper who doesn't care of his lot's needs!"

Roger moved so fast Ralph couldn't avoid the smack on his cheek. The blond fell and his cheek stung so bad he immediately knew what happened. He touched his cheek and felt the warmth of his own blood from the scar.

Ralph looked up. Roger was smiling, his eyes wide with wildness. His spear tight in hand, the point was smeared with Ralph's blood.

Below them, Piggy's pleas were heard. He couldn't see what happened up there.

"Ralph! Don't leave me! I can't see!"

Those pleas fuelled Ralph's rage. He stood and took his own spear. He was going to attack Roger with the harmful way possible when he saw something in the chief's pocket.

_It's my father's knife._

Ralph stared at it for a while, Jack's words echoing in his mind. Piggy had told him Robert had killed the Beast. No, _Jack_. Ralph had broken down crying like mad, and Piggy needed hours to calm him down. He didn't see Robert between the cheering boys up there.

Apparently it was too long for Ralph. Roger suddenly hit his spear with his and tackled him down the rocky floor.

Ralph hissed in pain as the sharp rocks scarred his torn shirt. He didn't want to give up. His fist connected with Roger's ear, making him snarl in pain. Roger elbowed Ralph's chin and managed to get the upper hand. He punched Ralph's stomach, making him grunt.

Ralph slipped his foot between them and kicked Roger's chest. It was like when he fought with Jack in the forest. Roger's body flew off him and he tackled him and punched his cheek so hard it apparently broke the chief's nose.

Above them, the cheers were still on.

* * *

Below them, Piggy's pleas were still heard as well. The wind brought the annoying voice to the top, towards Maurice and the others.

"Why are y'all doing this?" Piggy asked loudly. His voice defeated the grunts and shrieks from Ralph and the chief, and also the cheers. "Is it that difficult to be sensible and working things out together?"

The cheers turned into booing the fat boy down there. Maurice became impatient. He remembered the plan Roger had told him, the first reason why he was up there. He eyed the boulder that had always been on the top of Castle Rock. An evil smile he'd known from Roger crossed his face.

"Ralph and I didn't know you from the start," Piggy continued. "But we both know we all can act more civil and fix things up! Maybe we can be rescued!"

Maurice snorted as he slipped his spear under the small gap between the boulder and the ground. _Roger always has the greatest ideas_, he thought to himself.

* * *

A boy narrowed his eyes as he looked in the dark 'room'. His bare feet were scrapped with the sharp rocks and he snarled, trying not to be loud.

_It's alright to be a bit loud_, his mind told him. _They are cheering for Ralph and bloody Roger out there, nobody will hear you._

The boy continued to crawl around the room. If only he could find a light!

Then he remembered. He jumped up and touched the rock ceiling, which was reachable since he was tall enough. He knocked his fist against it, trying to find a soft spot. He knew there was one. Once he found it, he took his spear and stabbed it repeatedly.

He smiled slightly when it finally broke, giving him a small hole full of light from the outside. The small hole was a bit farther than the place where the boys were cheering, much to the boy's relief. _Finally, a light!_ The light helped him a lot, since he could see better now. He looked around, still looking for the thing he had searched since yesterday.

_Maybe Roger keeps it?_

The boy shook his head. That couldn't be. Eventually he could make a shape on the corner of the room. He grinned and rushed towards the corner, scolding himself of not searching that place. The boy jumped down the 'room' and looked at the entrance. He could hear the cheers became louder and the voices of a fight not far from him.

With that, Jack Merridew's grin widened as he made his way outside, the thing he had searched tight in his grip.

* * *

"Which's better," Piggy continued to plea. "Law and rescue or hunting and breaking things up? Why did you kidnap all of them? They want to believe there was no Beast, and there wasn't! They have rights to have their opinions!"

"Shut up, you fat slug!"

"Boo!"

Maurice didn't say anything. He merely concentrated at Roger's prideful words, Piggy's plea, and the boulder.

_Well done, Maurice_, he could imagine Roger said in approval. _You've done a great job._

Piggy's pleas. _Be sensible! Like Ralph is! I can't see! Give me back my glasses!_

With a huge smile on his face, he pushed his spear down and the huge rock slipped down the top of the mountain.

* * *

Ralph, who had managed to take Jack's knife from Roger's pocket, heard the boulder falling before he could see it. He could feel the ground below him vibrated from the huge weight, and he looked up. Roger looked up as well, although he had known what would happen.

The blond's eyes widened when he saw the great rock slipped down the mountain... _towards Piggy!_... in such a speed nothing could be done to avoid the strike.

The huge rock struck Piggy, who didn't even had the time to say anything. It broke his head into pieces like he were a glass statue. Blood splattered to the rocks around him and his body stumbled before fell forty feet into the ocean. His body twitched, reminding the others of a pig's after it had been killed. Red stripes of blood staining the clean sea water before the body was taken away by the huge energy of the sea.

"PIGGY!"

Ralph, in shock, had gotten off of Roger and stood motionlessly, staring at the dead body being taken away by the sea. The entire mountain, the entire island was silent. Nobody even dared to _breathe_.

Roger slowly stood from the ground and was going to attack Ralph from behind. But then something stopped him, making his eyes wide with shock.

A loud voice that wasn't human came from inside the cave. A loud voice that Roger knew so well; and the one which triggered past memories from all of them.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for not writing good fight scenes :(. And Maurice is actually a bigun's verison of Percival, one approval-seeker. And where are Percival and Robert? We'll see... AND JACK'S STILL HERE! Someone has guessed? :D


	18. Smoke in the Forest

_Chapter Eighteen: Smoke in the Forest_

* * *

A/N: This chapter still has gory things, although not that graphic. I hope you won't be disturbed or something.

* * *

Jack had blown the conch.

With slow steps, dignified ones like a chief he had been, Jack Merridew walked out the cave, the conch tight in his left grip, which was almost useless because his left shoulder was wounded, and a spear in his right hand. His face was still painted, but it had faded slightly since he didn't repaint himself after he used the piglet's blood.

"This surely needs an assembly." It was the first words he said.

Whispers covered the entire Castle Rock. Ralph couldn't believe what he had seen. _Jack's still alive, his stepbrother's still alive!_

"What rules I've told all of you?" he asked, his red hair tousled under his black cap.

Nobody said anything.

Jack, putting the conch down, decided to continue. "I told you three rules. Don't kill the piglets, only ones who hold the conch may speak, and have fun. Now, where are they? We lost our fun in here. We lost our conch."

Then suddenly his voice was high pitched, a sign that he was furious. "I never want anyone to die! You may have all your fun but nobody kills anyone. Why they died? I ask you, WHY THEY DIED?!

"See?" Jack's voice was filled with sheer wildness. With his spear he pointed at the sea. "That's what you'll get! See? You start to kill everyone! I'm chief and nobody else!"

He made his way towards Roger, who was standing near the edge of the hill. Under them there were rocks and the ocean. The chief was still stunned of his appearance. Jack's blue eyes glared sharply at the dark ones.

"You killed them," he said. "You bloody well killed them. Those batty ones and now that fatty."

An evil smile, which was completely Roger's, crossed Jack's face, making him out of his usual character. "I'm the chief and nobody else," he repeated.

_He's the chief, and Roger is not._

With that Roger snapped out his stunned state, finally believed that Jack was still alive, and launched himself towards him, his spear tight in hand. "I'm the chief!" he snarled.

They met with a jolt, and bounced apart. Roger's spear met Jack's stomach viciously, tearing the skin. Jack growled in pain and advanced towards the dark boy, intending to do the same. They collided again, and Jack succeeded. Roger hissed like a snake as blood streamed down his stomach.

"Whee! Go Chief!"

Suddenly the cheers were on again. Nobody knew who did the first cheer to the fighting chiefs, but it was followed instantly. And then, there was another voice.

"Stop! Stop it!"

Ralph approached them, trying to break them apart. He placed his own bruised body between the chiefs, screaming as he did so. His voice was drowned upon the cheers. "Stop this! We can just talk! Fighting is just useless!"

Roger pushed him aside, so hard Ralph stumbled back towards the edge of the mountain.

Jack saw red. Acting on instinct, he spread his right arm as Ralph began to sway dangerously on the edge and pulled him to safety. Ralph yelled as his torso hit the rock wall near the entrance to Castle Rock, but Jack paid him no heed anymore.

Roger smacked him with his spear, and Jack fell. He had seen him doing this, so he knew what to do. When Roger was enjoying his seconds of victory, Jack swung his leg against his ankles and he fell down as well, scraping his upper arm against a sharp rock.

Roger, in sudden pain, rolled his body. Unknowingly that brought him dangerously close to the edge. Jack bounced happily, the evil smile was there again.

"Goodbye, my old friend." Jack whispered, sneering. "We'll miss you dearly."

With that, Jack kicked the body as strong as he could, throwing him off the mountain. Roger screamed before his head hit the sharp rocks beneath. There was a loud crack, which was a sign that his bones had broken. His head was cracked open, the way Piggy's had been a while ago, and stuff came out, staining the rocks and the sea.

They watched silently as the sea took the corpse of the dead chief as well.

Until something broke the tense silence.

"Chief!

"Whee!"

"Wizard!"

"The chief's back!"

"The chief's not dead!"

The biguns continued to cheer and Jack couldn't help but to beam in pride.

But there was something else.

"You killed him!"

Silence fell over them again after that shout. Jack turned towards Ralph, who stared at him, disbelief and anger mixed into one. It was the first time Jack was really puzzled with his... with Ralph. Should Ralph be happy he had killed the threat?

"You bloody killed him! You said you didn't want anyone to die! He had any right to live, and _you killed him_!"

With that, Ralph ran down the mountain and into the forest, as fast as his bruised body could take.

* * *

Roger's other plan was to burn the forest, in case Ralph or Piggy survived his other plan (which was dropping a boulder and killed Piggy). He told Bill and Henry to keep an eye of it, making sure that it went on like the plan. That could smoke Ralph or Piggy out, in case he ran into the forest. That would make him easier to be hunted.

Percival, Robert, Michael, Piers, and Stanley were the ones who were in charge to burn the forest. Bill lighted the wood with Piggy's glasses and they made a fire in the clearing before separated, each of them brought a lit stick and burned the places Henry had told them.

Percival was assigned to burn the place below the hill. He ran towards the place, a lit stick in hand. He could barely hear the others—or only Henry and Bill—singing their hunting songs.

"Kill the pig! Slit his throat! Bash him in!"

"Kill the pig! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!"

Percival stopped abruptly at the sight of the Lord of the Flies in front of him. The pig's skin was torn in several places, and white bones were visible in several places. He gasped.

_"Kill the pig! Slit his throat! Bash him in!"_

He used to sit near here with Simon. Flashbacks started to overcome Percival's mind. Simon's face was starting to blur in the boy's mind. He hadn't thought about Simon since he died and gave what was left from Ralph's jacket.

Percival's hand slipped into his pocket, feeling the cloth inside it and relief flooded in him. He looked up and saw the Lord of the Flies. Suddenly there was a voice which was so creepy it made him jump.

"I win."

In shock, Percival screamed. He dropped the stick he was holding and ran away, leaving the pig's head on a stick which was starting to burn from his fire.

* * *

Ralph ran into the forest and smoke choked him. _Why's the forest smoky?_

A cold feeling washed his insides. He remembered Piggy's words, retelling him his encounter with Robert last night. Last night? It felt like ages.

_"...Samneric told me to tell Ralph that things won't be good tomorrow. They wanted me to warn both of you. He told Bill to sharpen two sticks at both ends._ _We don't know what will happen, but... prepare for the worst."_

He heard voices. _Voices!_

There were so many voices. Pigs were squealing, birds screaming as they flew away from their nests, mice shrieking when they emerged from the ground. And even with all that, Ralph could hear people whispering.

Ralph rolled his body under a log and waited. He could make out a form from behind the trees, a bit covered by the smoke. His eyes widened when he saw Bill emerged from it. Ralph held his breath, silently waiting for the savage to pass.

The savage continued walking but suddenly he stopped. Ralph bit his lip, as if the action could make him unseen. Thin smoke and noises of the fire distracted him, but Ralph still could make out his form.

Bill peered out into the obscurity beneath the smoke. Ralph was sure he saw him as well as Ralph did. The bigun's face wrinkled, trying to recognise the face he was seeing.

Ralph bit his lip so hard it started to bleed. _Don't scream._

He dared himself to look up. He was looking straight into the other boy's eyes. He stifled a gasp.

_Don't scream._

_A stick sharpened at both ends._

_Piggy's dead. Simon's dead. Roger's dead. That boy with mark's dead._

_Now he's seen you. He's making sure._

_A stick sharpened._

Ralph couldn't help it anymore. He screamed, a scream of anger and desperation and fear. He stood up so abruptly his bruised body protested. He shot forward, towards the smoke which was getting thicker. He didn't need more time to realise that he didn't bring his spear anymore. He swung his fist at Bill, who didn't know what was coming, thanks to the smoke. The bigun tumbled over and fell onto the ground, crying out.

Ralph didn't have any time to praise his own fist. He could hear someone else cried out and then a song filled his head.

_"Kill the pig! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!"_

Ralph kept running. Smoke and the sounds of the fire started to choke Ralph, making him stop for a while to control his breath. He coughed and decided to get out as fast as he could. He knew where to run.

The beach where he and Piggy and Percival had arrived for the first time.

Ralph inhaled, almost coughed again when he realised he couldn't even make out where he was.

* * *

"He's running into the forest!"

Jack was going to chase him when he saw another thing coming.

"The forest's burning!" he shouted, along with several boys who realised the fact at the same time as he did.

"We can't go in!" Rupert yelled. "There are the others in there!"

Jack looked up so he could see the bigun. "The others?" he asked loudly.

Rupert climbed down so he stood in front of the redhead. "The Chief asked us to..."

Jack glared at the mention of the chief, but ignored it. "To what?"

Rupert cowered. "To burn the forest."

Jack's eyes widened in shock and anger. He was silent, and all of them were silent as well.

"Then," he eventually said, surprisingly calm. In fact he was trying hard not to throw Rupert off the mountain like he had done with Roger. "We'll go in there and save what's left. Y'all, into the forest!"

They were going to climb down Castle Rock when Samneric screamed.

"CHIEF!"

Jack looked up, slightly proud of being called by his old nickname. He could see the twins pointing at the direction far away, across the forest and towards the other side of the island.

"There is—"

"—a ship!"

* * *

They were all running, all crying out madly. Ralph could hear the song filling his hearing, aside from the burning wood and animals screeching. He was so frightened he forgot his wounds, his bruises, his hunger, and his thirst.

_"Kill the pig! Slit his throat! Bash him in!"_

Ralph blinked, trying hard to see out of the smoke. Colourful spots that he was sure were never there were visible in his vision. He could see a coconut tree and almost screamed in relief. He stumbled over a root and cried in pain.

_"Kill the pig! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!"_

_"Ralph! Ralph!"_

Ralph could hear someone calling his name. But it was so small he couldn't say it was an actual call or something from his frantic mind had made. He saw a tree burst into flames and was sure the entire clearing had been as well.

_Another coconut tree!_

Ralph had never felt so relieved when he saw that tree. He stumbled and his body fell against the white sand.

_"Kill the pig! Slit his throat! Bash him in!"_

He was between staggering and half-crawling when he felt the cries grew louder and louder. Knowing that he had no chance to escape, he cried for mercy.

* * *

Jack and the others emerged out the forest not long after Ralph did. Robert was carrying an unconscious Peter and half-dragging an ashen Michael. The redhead gaped when he saw the sight in front of him.

Ralph was lying sprawled in front of feet of a naval officer. Jack blinked and tried hard not to think about his father and let the hatred washed him. The officer stared doubtfully at Ralph and then at the other boys before taking his hand away from the butt of his revolver.

Bill and Henry, the only ones who sang the hunting songs, emerged the last. They were silent instantly when they saw the sight.

"Hullo."

Jack could see Ralph looking up at the officer, obviously embarrassed of his battered shirt and dirty appearance. "Hullo."

The officer looked up at the group of boys behind the sprawling blond. "Are there any grownups with you?"

"No," Robert answered for them.

Then there was an uncomfortable silence. The only noise was the fire consuming the trees on the beach, making the sky as black as a midnight without stars. The officer finally decided to speak up.

"We saw your smoke. What are you doing? Having a war or something?"

Ralph nodded, the fear still gripped him tightly. The officer sensed no jokes from the gesture. He was shocked beyond belief. But still, he couldn't believe it.

"I should have thought a pack of British boys—you all British, right?—can make a better show than this, going civil or something. This is not a jolly good show from a group of boys like all of you."

Ralph didn't say anything. He came when the others were already there, he didn't know what happened before then.

The officer continued. "Nobody was killed, I hope? Any dead bodies?"

"Three," Ralph said hoarsely. "And they've gone."

"False." Jack corrected from behind him. "There are four."

The others gasped and looked up at Jack, the officer included, as if they never saw him before. The officer blinked and nodded, as if he was giving them his condolences. "We'll take you off," he said. He looked at Jack again. "Who's the boss here? You?"

Jack nodded. "I'm the chief," he said loudly.

There was a small gasp from behind him. Jack looked at the source of voice and saw a heavily painted boy whom he had never seen before. His face was freckled beneath the paints, and Jack assumed he was Percival, Ralph's other friend who had stranded together.

"You're the chief?" the little boy asked.

Jack nodded haughtily. "And who are you?"

"I'm—I'm—" Percival couldn't say more. Even his name had been swept away by the savagery he had been forcefully pulled into.

Jack decided to let it pass. "What?"

"Si-Simon wa-wanted to give you t-this," the boy stuttered before pulled a piece of cloth from his pocket. Tears were starting to pool in his eyes. "H-he said 'give it to the chi-chief b-but not R-Roger'."

Seeing the remains of his school jacket broke Ralph down. He vaguely remembered Simon wearing it and everything crashed upon him.

_Simon... Simon had... and Piggy... and Jack was... Jack was... I found... Jack was... Jack was..._

And then there Ralph was, beginning to weep. He wept for the loss of their innocence, the darkness of man's heart, the long lost sibling who hated him, and for those who died, who were the victims of savagery almost all of them had been into.

The officer was embarrassed when the boy in front of him began to cry silently. He would never be able to see someone crying, let alone children Ralph's age. He turned his back and stared at his ship in the distance.

Jack stared at cloth in his hand. He saw the school badge, which was covered with blood but he could make out the name of the school. However, he could feel something else behind the cloth. He flipped it over and saw a name sewn there, washing all his denial and second guesses.

_Ralph Stevenson Merridew_

Jack gasped and looked up from the cloth. He saw Ralph lying there, crying like a little boy. Things flashed in his mind and he blinked. Ralph changed in front of him, turning from a blond boy who was wearing a battered shirt into a little crying boy who Jack used to calm.

Jack, acted instinctively, walked towards the little boy with movements like an old man. He could still hear the sobs from Ralph's throat, and he merely saw the little boy who cried every time a lightning struck. He loved that little boy, he could never hate him. Jack realised that fact with a jolt. His mother could say things to him, but he still loved Ralph like he used to.

Jack blinked, and the present emerged, showing him the Ralph with battered shirt and sand and snot and blood and tears on his face. The blond was hugging his own body, which shuddered with each sob. Jack crouched in front of him, his inner voice said soothingly at him.

_He's your family. When he cries, you cry. Comfort him like you used to._

Then, awkwardly, Jack circled his right arm around the other boy and let his head rested against his right shoulder. Ralph gasped at the sudden comfort, but didn't resist. His tears came more and more, and Jack lifted, as much as he could, his left hand and brushed tears off Ralph's face. Then he brushed his own face, unconsciously erasing the face paints.

"What are you doing?" the officer broke the silence.

Jack stared challengingly at him. "I just want to make this crybaby of a _brother_'s cries stop. Isn't it civil enough?"

The naval officer sensed the truth from Jack's words, and he was silent again, staring at the cruiser at the distance once again. However, it confused him when he heard Ralph's cries grew louder.

* * *

A/N: No, it's not the end! There's still two other chapters, and an epilogue. Some words are taken (and changed) from the book, obviously. And sorry for the unbeta'd chapter and making another bad fight scene! I told you I suck at writing fight scenes.

About Piggy's death, that depress me too, FadedSunset *cries*. I never like Piggy but he doesn't deserve to die. His death actually was one of the reasons Jack killed Roger and that's how my story flows. I actually believe (in canon) Jack never wanted anyone to die. He merely became chief because he thought Ralph was annoying. Well, my own opinion :D (is a Jack fangirl).

For Terrodactyl, thanks for reviewing! Really glad to see you here :) You guess too much, but yes, it's the conch :D I practically didn't use it, right? Well, my fault. *smiles sheepishly*

About that last scene… it actually has been inside my head for weeks before I wrote this story. My friend (who read this for her essay, which makes me feel honoured) took it as another symbolism, which I didn't realise before. If she allows me, I'll put some part of her essay at the end of this story.

I hope y'all still like this! Have a nice day/night/whatever! :D


	19. Watery Images from a Salvation

_Chapter Nineteen: Watery Images from a Salvation_

* * *

A/N: This chapter still has gory descriptions. I hope that won't disturb you as well. You've been warned. Thanks.

* * *

After Ralph's cries had subsided, the naval officer didn't waste any time to get them on board. They were put in the rescue boat, and were in the ship in a matter of minutes. Nobody spoke. Apparently everyone was still in shock, which was true.

However, when they stepped on the wooden floor of the ship, they seemed to have a better grip on themselves. They smiled and laughed as other naval officers arranged them and lent them clothes and told them to wash their face and to take a bath.

When the ship was starting to sail, Percival walked towards the deck. He was alone. The other boys were either washing themselves or talking to the officers or doing nobody-knows-what. He stared at the island, colours of orange and black colouring his vision. But something... something was there. Percival gasped.

"There's someone! On the beach!"

Of course, nobody heard him. Percival blinked in panic. He hoped nobody was left on the island. He _really_ saw someone. He blinked again and the form was clearer. The form's face had face paints, bruised face, wounded body, and wore torn clothes. Half savage and half dead. His eye was bruised shut. Percival shuddered at the image as the ship sailed away from the island, leaving the burning forest. The boy blinked again and he could see the sun covered the form with its light. The form, which was a dark boy, smiled. Percival's eyes widened in recognition.

"SIMON!"

The ghost's smile became wider. Simon tilted his head and waved at him. Despite of their far proximity, Percival could hear his voice perfectly.

"You were great, Percival Wemys Madison."

Percival beamed. "Thanks! You remember my name too!" But then he was sad again. "I wasn't," he whined. "I didn't stay in your... Ralph's side. I just... I'm sorry!"

Simon's soft, soothing voice was immediately heard. "People make mistakes," he said with no judging tone in it. "It's in all of us, mistakes. I had mine and you have yours. But you have made up for it. It's okay."

"What did I do?"

Simon grinned, and his fingers made a heart shape. "You've awakened someone's love. One long lost love of a sibling. I would never achieve that."

Percival didn't understand what Simon meant, and it seemed it would stay that way. He blinked again and was going to ask when he saw Simon walking towards the sea, his body slowly was devoured by the strength of the ocean.

The dark boy smiled and waved as if he were a mother who was taking her child to his first day of school. Percival grinned and waved back. They continued to wave at each other until the ship continued to go further and Simon was no longer could be seen.

* * *

That night, Ralph was dreaming. He was standing on the lower side of Castle Rock. There was a waiting feeling inside of him, although he didn't know who or what he was waiting for.

But suddenly there was a voice from below him. It didn't make any sense since below him were only sharp rocks and it was forty feet high. But it came anyway.

"Ralph, Ralph. Down here."

Ralph looked down and gasped. Piggy was there, his face was almost unrecognisable. His head was disfigured, the back of his head was torn along with his clothes, his neck broken and twisted oddly, and his face was so badly bruised and bloody. He didn't wear his specs. "Hi, Ralph."

Ralph was still stunned of the sight below him.

"My auntie said not to run and swim, on account of my asthma," Piggy said, his voice normal.

The answer from Ralph was almost mechanical. "Sucks to your ass-mar."

Piggy's face curled into a hurt expression, making his face looked twice painful. But then he smiled broadly, showing the blond how he bore the insult with such a patience. "But I can swim! Ralph, I can swim! I don't have asthma attack now! And I can see without my specs!"

Ralph couldn't help but to laugh at the innocent remark. "You can do anything, Piggy. You're smart and wise and everything I don't have."

"Really?" Piggy's beady eyes widened. "You're great too, Ralph. A friend I'd never have. You're a better chief, at least."

Ralph smiled humbly. "Not that good, but thanks."

"I'll live in this ocean," Piggy said with his usual odd accent. "I'll really miss my auntie and her candy jar, but I know I'll be here forever. You tell her, okay, Ralph? Tell her that I'm happy and I'll miss her. I really wanted to send her a letter on the island, but there was no mailbox, no stamps, and no postman."

Ralph stifled a laugh at the attempt of humour. "Of course."

"Thanks," Piggy said sincerely, smiling also. The blood and bruises on his face didn't make him less childlike and innocent like the fat boy Ralph used to know. "Remember this, Ralph. There's no ghost, or a Beast, or things like that. Remember that."

Ralph nodded.

"Oh, remember this too! My auntie says this almost all the time!" Piggy said. "Remember that the dead will not haunt you as long as you don't think about them. The dead will forgive you no matter what."

He waved and Ralph waved back. He watched as Piggy stood between the rocks and let the ocean took his body away.

With that, he jumped awake and realised that he was in the cabin with sleeping Percival and Michael across from him. He decided to have some fresh air and walked outside, towards the deck.

* * *

Jack wouldn't admit to anyone that he was seasick. He had never stepped in a ship since who knows how long. The slight movements from the ship made him sick. He clenched his eyes shut. It was dark in the cabin, and Maurice and Rupert had slept since hours ago.

He knew he couldn't sleep. He opened his eyes again and saw the sunlight. The sunlight he used to see on the island. Jack blinked in confusion. He looked around and there he was, back in the island. Jack inhaled, and the air was the same, moist and clear like it used to be.

"Kill him!"

Jack jerked and looked at the source of voice. He saw a group of painted boys, carrying spears in their hands, running towards him.

"The chief has spoken!"

Jack lifted his eyebrow. He hadn't said anything. But the boys were going towards him in such a threatening manner Jack started to run. He knew he was the one being chased. His mind spun and he knew Roger was the chief and not him.

They chased him around the slowly burning forest, until a hand grabbed his wounded shoulder. Jack snarled and looked back. He met face-to-face with Roger, staring at his dark, wild eyes. His coarse hair was even messier than usual, and his body was painted from head to toe. He looked as if he had been a savage since he was born.

"We got you!" he cheered. The others followed the cheer as well. Jack was taken into the clearing, the songs followed all the way there.

_"Got the Beast! Cut his throat! Bash him in!"_

_"Got the Beast! Cut his throat! Bash him in!"_

They arrived in the clearing soon after. There was a huge fire, and two clean-faced boys stood from their seats near the fire, a broad smile on their faces. Despite of the smiles, their eyes were empty. Jack's eyes widened when he saw who they were.

Ralph and Piggy smiled when they finally arrived, and Jack was tied down inexpertly with a rope-like vine. He vaguely remembered telling Simon and Douglas to make them some time after they arrived on the island.

"We got the Beast!" Ralph said happily, but his eyes belied his words. Jack's eyes widened in shock at his words. _Has he gone blind? Or has he gone bonkers with all these boys?_

"Burn him!" someone shouted and they cheered.

Jack narrowed his eyes, refusing to cower in fear. But that feeling seeped into him as they dragged him towards the fire. "Hey!" he shouted. "What on earth's going on?"

They didn't seem to hear him, or they pretended not to care. But then there was a childish scream.

"NO! STOP IT!"

Everybody stopped at once. It seemed like the time stopped as well. Suddenly the rope-like vine slipped down Jack's arms, mobilised him once again. He looked up and saw a boy emerged from the forest. His face wasn't painted. His body was injured so badly, but from the mark on his face Jack could recognise who he was.

Donald's neck was twisted in an awkward angle, which showed everyone how badly broken his neck had been. His nose was bleeding and his entire body and face was bruised, although his mulberry mark was still easily seen. His right hand was lost, and only a white bone stuck out from his wrist. There was a huge wound on his chest, the same one they could find on a dead pig. Jack held out his nausea. He knew Roger was an insane sadist. And stabbing Donald after throwing him off the hill, just to make sure he was dead, was possible to happen in Roger's case.

Donald turned his face at him and smiled with his disfigured face. "I know you'll get back all right," he said softly, repeating the words Jack had heard from him back in the cave sometime ago. "I know you'll be just fine."

"What are you doing?"

Donald was still smiling. "Just want to tell you I'm okay. I'm okay because the Beast has gone."

Jack snorted. He was still as batty as ever. "Oh really?" he asked sarcastically. "Is this some sort of nightmares barmy kids like you and Simon have? Because I don't like dealing with the dead in here."

"No nightmares. Me and Simon are in peace, Jack." Donald assured him, his old, wise words belied his childlike appearance. "We're in peace because I've seen the dead parachuter flying out the island, like what I've told you before. So don't think about it anymore."

"That easy?"

Donald chuckled. "Think of the Beast as much as you think of us."

Jack, who was still confused, finally nodded.

Donald grinned. _Now_ he looked like a child his age! "Jack, want to take us to the beach?" he suddenly asked.

"_Us_?"

"Yeah," Donald pointed at someone behind Jack. "The... Roger wants to come too."

Jack looked back and almost screamed in shock. Roger's heavily painted body had changed. His forehead cracked in the middle and blood came out from it, staining his bruised, painted face. His skull looked odd from the collision against the rocks when Jack had killed him. His skin was torn in several places, his nose was bleeding and obviously broken, he lost almost all his toes, and his neck was even twisted more awkwardly than Donald's.

Roger opened his mouth, but no sound came out from him. Jack frowned. From his expression, Roger was accusing him or calling him names. Jack grinned triumphantly. Beside him, Donald's voice was innocent.

"He can't say anything because he doesn't have anything good to say. I burned his spear too! I can burn things too, you know!" he said, referring to one day when he was excluded from the group because he couldn't rub the sticks together and cause fire. "Now we'll go to the beach!"

Donald bounced next to Jack as they walked, Roger followed behind. They looked like a dysfunctional family. The walk to the beach wasn't long, and Jack stepped on the white sand in a matter of minutes. Donald cheered at the sight of the blue, clean ocean.

"I left this island by swimming and I want to swim again!"

At that point, Jack knew that Roger had thrown Donald's body to the sea after killing him. But he wondered why Donald didn't seem to mind. Even with Roger next to him, he was still happy and such. He knew that boy was batty, but he couldn't imagine he was _that_ batty. He asked him that.

"Because," Donald answered, batting his eyelashes innocently at Jack. "We don't hate each other in the ocean. The Beast doesn't live in the ocean."

With that, the mulberry-marked boy grasped Roger's hand and they ran towards the sea, leaving Jack standing alone on the beach. They ran until the water was as high as Donald's chest and they looked back. Jack blinked and their faces changed, became cleaner and more... normal. The wounds and face paints were gone, and Donald lifted his hand and waved at him, still grinning. Jack waved back half-heartedly.

"Goodbye, my old friend." Roger's voice suddenly appeared, cold but held no hatred in Jack's mind, repeating what Jack had said to him. "We'll miss you dearly."

And Jack blinked again and they were gone, as well as the ocean. He was back in his cabin, and it was still dark. The air wasn't as fresh as the one he had inhaled on the island, and he started to feel claustrophobic. So he jolted awake and ran outside, towards the deck.

* * *

Ralph snapped his head when he heard the sound, someone rushing next to him. He looked at the source of sound and Jack was panting next to him, his hand gripping the metal fence. "What is it?" he asked sympathetically.

Jack snapped his head towards him as if he hadn't seen him before. "Nothing."

Ralph paused. "Dreams or nightmares?"

Jack finally could compose himself. "You think?"

"Nightmares, then," Ralph concluded. "I dreamed of Piggy before. I don't know if I should call it a nightmare or a dream, but he seemed happy to see me."

"It's not a nightmare."

"But his wounds... that surely would give me nightmares."

"What did he say?"

"He told me to tell his auntie he's dead and he's happy now."

"How nice," came the curt answer.

Ralph looked at him curiously. "What's yours?"

"Quite the same," Jack said after a long pause. "Donald and Roger came. They want me to forget them. At least that barmy Donald said that."

"Because people never remember the dead," Ralph nodded in understanding. His eyes fell on Jack's bandaged shoulder, which wasn't covered by the sleeve of his oversized shirt. "How come you survived again?"

Jack frowned at the sudden change of topic, but he smirked afterwards. "That babysitter can't hold a spear at all. Lousy hunter, he is," he said. "I knew he didn't want to kill me, but seriously, my shoulder? And I wonder how he coped of being a hunter."

"Robert didn't want anyone else to die."

"So am I."

"But you killed him anyway."

Jack's smirk fell. He didn't need to ask who Ralph meant. "Roger was a threat."

"Or maybe you just wanted to be Chief again?"

Jack didn't answer, which meant Ralph was right. He continued.

"But he can be just detained in a cave, like you were. You two can talk after things had calmed down."

Jack rolled his eyes. "How very civil you are in there," he said. "He had the others in his grip. He wouldn't stop and listen to the _talk_. Be realistic, Ralph. We'd be dead before you had the chance to say your first word."

Ralph chuckled darkly. After a while, he stopped and stared at Jack with wonder. The taller boy pretended not to notice the questioning stare. "What?" he finally snapped.

"You... you called me your brother."

To Ralph's surprise, Jack blushed so red his face darkened suddenly. "Don't take it that way," he finally said. "I still hate you."

Ralph snapped, his dam of emotion finally burst. "Grow up! It's the past! I didn't even remember you? Why can you just let it go? I'd love to know you! I'd love to know my new relative! I know your... _Dad_ would like to see you again!"

Jack didn't say anything as Ralph continued to rant. It was ironically like when Jack had ranted in the forest long time ago—neither of them would believe it had been only a week or so—but with the situations reversed.

Ralph sagged next to him, tears of frustration pooled in his eyes. Jack stared down at him deeply. "Done?" he asked.

Ralph took a deep breath. He looked up and said, "Give me your knife."

"What?"

"Just give me that."

Jack reluctantly pulled out his knife out his pocket and gave it to the exasperated blond. Ralph took it and his fingers traced the initials carved on the handle.

"He will never give this to me," he said softly.

This poked Jack's interest. He crouched down next to him. "What?"

"You were named after him, right? Jackson Christopher Merridew."

"_Junior_. But yes, it's my name. I hate him for naming me like that."

"But only you who can have this thing," Ralph said, and Jack barely caught a hint of jealousy. Or was it merely his imagination? He wouldn't know. "It's his initials and you were named after him. You're his first child. He must've loved you very much."

"And now he doesn't." Jack's words were filled with disdain.

"How do you know?"

"Why doesn't he look for me? For his _long lost son_? If he cared so much and named me after him, why he didn't look for me?" Jack said, his voice dripping with disdain. He clenched his eyes shut. "My mother sometimes hit me, y'know, when she was drunk. She told me how much she hated my name because he named me after him. The only thing she loved from me is my face, which is so much like hers."

After an awkward silence, Ralph dared himself to hold his stepbrother's hand. He could feel the other boy's pain and he wanted to comfort him as much as possible. "How d'you know if you don't try, Jack?" he whispered.

Jack stared at him as if he had told him Piggy were still alive.

"Come with me someday," Ralph said. "I'll tell Mom and Dad about you and we'll have fun together. You have to tell your mother you need Dad so she'll allow you to go. C'mon Jack, you'll love him! I'm sure he'll love you too!"

Jack shook his head vigorously. "You won't give up whatever I do to refuse, right?"

Ralph grinned weakly. "Right. It's what I'm famous of. Pestering."

Jack huffed and stood. Ralph stood as well. "You sound like a barmy Simon," he said, chuckling. His eyes were staring far away to the ocean. "I don't know, things are pretty messed up for me."

"Does that mean you'll try?"

Jack shrugged. "Guess so."

Ralph's weak grin turned into a huge one. "Great, thanks!" he said, playfully punching Jack's right shoulder.

Jack's eyes widened, but Ralph knew it was more to surprise than pain. "What's that for?"

"I always do that to my cousins," Ralph grinned. "And I'd really love to do that more often to my brother."

Those words seemed to be Jack's undoing. He let out a hoarse but obviously happy laugh, and punched Ralph's shoulder back.

"Hey!"

Jack grinned wildly at him. He looked exactly like savage he once had been. But his face was clean now, showing Ralph no savagery left. Only a playful, almost innocent boy remained. Jack curled his good arm below Ralph's chin and gave his head playful pokes with his left hand.

"Say Chief!"

"No!" Ralph was laughing as he struggled to break free. The word triggered bad things from Ralph's mind, but Jack's laugh erased all of them, replacing them with his blurry childhood memories.

"Say 'I'm the Chief'!"

A sneaky smile crossed Ralph's face. "I'm the Chief!" he said, managing to break free. He pulled out Jack's knife from his pocket and swung it in front of the other boy's eyes. "And catch me if you can, dear brother! For your knife's sake!"

And then he began to run. Jack was stunned for a while but when Ralph's words seeped into his mind he gasped and chased Ralph around the deck. "Come back here, you!"

They continued to play, to chase each other until a naval officer came out and scolded them for being so loud. The nightmares of a grim island temporarily forgotten, shoved into a new day of tomorrow. Instead, there was an innocent, childish game of theirs.

And below the ship, Simon was smiling widely. His body was floating underwater, his face clean and looked normal, dreamy and childlike. Donald, Piggy, and Roger floated next to him. They were smiling too, even Roger, as they swam further from the cruiser.

* * *

A/N: I know I make Jack an _almost_ protagonist in here, but I hope you don't mind. He practically didn't do anything bad other than killing Roger and being the beast. And being a haughty git, of course. I hope the end doesn't sound too cheesy and unbelievable, because I really love it and I hope y'all like it too. :)


	20. Nothing Changed

_Chapter Twenty: Nothing Changed_

* * *

_"Nobody'd be different. The only thing that would be different would be you. Not that you'd be much older or anything. It wouldn't be that, exactly. You'd just be different, that's all."_

_~The Catcher in the Rye~_

When Jack Merridew arrived at his hometown, nothing changed. Nothing but him changed. He was older, and his eyes shone oddly, showing people that he had seen what nobody had seen. He knew he was much taller when he wondered why the road was further from his view than the last he vaguely remembered.

He gripped his bag tighter as he walked towards a huge cathedral. He took of his cap and stared at the golden badge on it. He remembered this building; he spent almost all his childhood in here. St. Peter's Cathedral didn't change at all. Near the church there was a school. His school. It didn't change as well. The War didn't touch his hometown.

The huge door creaked open as the redhead pushed it. He walked in and was greeted by beautiful sounds from a group of choirboys. From the sounds inside, he knew it was their practice day.

_Kyrie, Kyrie, Kyrie Eleison_

Jack was rooted to his spot. That song was the one he used to sing. The boys were wearing the exactly same black robes with huge cross like he had been. Jack walked towards the seats and sat down, ruffling his red hair in the process.

_Kyrie, Kyrie, Kyrie Eleison_

The boys didn't seem to notice him. They continued to sing. But then there was another voice interrupting Jack's thoughts.

"Well, isn't it our chapter chorister? Famous with his C sharp?"

Jack looked up and saw an old priest, smiling at him. He frowned, trying to remember. The old priest apparently could read his mind.

"Oh, my dear boy, what happened with your memory? I thought I'm the only one's old here. I'm Father Thomas, in case that will help your poor memory."

Jack's eyes widened when blurry memories in the church came crashing in his mind. "I'm sorry... I can't really remember. I just remember this place because of this..." he showed the priest his golden badge. "...and I know it's from here and I was a chapter chorister and head boy... but..."

Father Thomas smiled gently. "Jackson, stop burdening yourself."

"I just..." Jack's words trailed off.

"I wonder why all of you came here with messy memories," Father Thomas said. "Your friends Robert and Maurice came here yesterday and it makes me wonder why they don't remember things here. I understand, though, it's been almost three years since you were gone."

Jack didn't feel to tell him the story, but found himself shocked at the long period of their absence. Almost three years? No wonder things got blurry. Roger had said, back in the cave, that he had been detained for almost a year. But Jack wasn't sure himself. If he were right, Ralph and the others merely stayed only for several months.

Around them, the choir was still singing. Jack shuddered at both of the song and images of Roger. This was Roger's favourite song, back when they were so close and still choirboys.

_Kyri, Kyri, Kyri, Kyri, Kyri, Kyri, Kyrie!_

"How long since you came, Jackson?" the priest asked, sensing his discomfort. "Robert told me you were staying with your relatives."

"Yeah," Jack admitted, scratching his head. Much to Ralph's shock (and happiness), Jack had offered himself to stay a night in Ralph's place after they arrived. The blond didn't ask why, and for that Jack was grateful. Jack merely didn't want to see his mother yet. Maybe Ralph had figured it out by himself. He was a smart kid, after all.

He knew Ralph's hometown changed so much after the war, because Ralph broke down at the image of his neighbourhood, some were destroyed and the rest changed. He was glad that he hadn't met Ralph's parents yet. Ralph had gone to his aunt's house (his mom was staying there since his... _their_ father went into the War) and reunited with his mother, but Jack didn't want to see her just yet. What he remembered of her wasn't great at all.

"I'm glad you're staying with them."

"What?"

Father Thomas stood. An anguish expression crossed his face. "Your darling mother wasn't... right since you left. Poor Theresa, she just couldn't stand it anymore."

"What?" Jack jumped, his bag dropped to the floor. "What happened to Mother?"

Father Thomas smiled grimly. "Come with me and you'll understand."

They walked past the singing choir and Jack stared longingly at the group. A boy caught his sight and they stared at each other until Jack smiled weakly at him. The boy smiled back, despite of the lyrics he was singing, and Jack closed the door behind him.

"Missing the old days, Jackson?" Father Thomas asked kindly.

"Yeah."

"Maurice told me that Roger and Simon died. Poor boys, I will never understand their minds but my prayers are always be with them."

"I know," Jack's voice sounded hollow. They continued to walk, and Jack's eyes widened when he realised where Father Thomas was taking him into.

The air was chilly and the clouds were covering the sun, making the graveyard gloomier than ever. Jack blinked. He rarely came here, he vaguely remembered Henry's father and uncle died and they had a ceremony here. He vaguely remembered Roger, who sometimes came here too, because his sister was buried here.

"Here, Jackson."

Jack snapped his head at the voice and saw Father Thomas standing in front of a certain grave. Jack gasped when he saw the names carved on the tombstone.

_In Here Lies_

_Theresa Jacqueline McDonald-Merridew_

Jack fell onto his knees, still couldn't believe that his mother was dead. Father Thomas patted his back sympathetically, but Jack could barely hear what he was saying and he knew both of them knew that.

"She couldn't hold herself upright," the priest said softly. Jack really wanted to sneer. She had never held herself upright since Jack was born. "She loved you so much, and your long absence making her fall apart. We all know about her... habits against you, but we all know that she also missed you dearly. We found her in the river."

The old priest pulled out something from the small bag he had brought. Jack wondered why he didn't notice it. "These are her letters. She wanted to send it but I don't know why she never did it. We found her will, and she told you to go to your father's family if she died. She inherited you nothing but the house and its belongings, which wasn't much, so I'm really happy you've found your relatives."

Jack nodded and took the letters, smiling genuinely for the first time. "Thank you, Father Thomas. Thank you so much."

_I'm free._

* * *

Ralph was sitting alone in his bedroom, staring out the window. Jack had left to his hometown that morning, and Ralph knew he must've been there right now. Ralph secretly hoped everything would be okay for the redhead and his mother.

"Ralph? Are you awake?"

"Yes, Mom." Ralph finally answered.

His mother, Gabrielle Merridew, walked into the room, her blonde hair a bit mussed from the wind. Her lovely grace was still there, and Ralph knew she would never change. "I've made us lunch, my dear. But we need to talk first."

"About what?"

"Jack."

Ralph eyed her suspiciously. "What about him?"

"Mr. Lawson saw you brought him in yesterday."

"How did he know it was Jack? And who's Jack anyway?"

Gabrielle shook her head frustratingly. "Don't play dumb with me, young man. I know you won't take strangers into the house, and I know no redhead other than him. And his bloody mother."

"Mom!"

She smiled weakly. "I hate his mother. And she hates me too."

"Spare me the details," Ralph said.

Gabrielle glared at him but didn't say anything against that. "Where did you meet him?"

"In... in... I don't remember, really." Ralph lied. He didn't want to open the old wounds which would cause worse nightmares that one he had had last night. Despite of the dream he had had on the ship, he still couldn't stop the nightmares. "In the plane, I guess."

"In the plane?"

Ralph merely nodded. "Why do you hate him, Mom?"

She was silent for a while. "I don't hate him," she finally said. "Like I said, I hate his mother."

"He's innocent," Why he used that word, Ralph would never know. "He didn't do anything wrong."

"A parent's sin sometimes changes the way someone sees their children, Ralph," Gabrielle said softly. "That's what she did to me."

"But what about Jack himself? He once was a haughty git but he's better now. He hates Dad so much but I told him he'd love him no matter what. We were both shocked but we could manage to work things out."

"That's very nice of you," his mother praised. Ralph almost flinched at her words. Despite of her praising tone, the words were just as same as Jack's on the island.

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

Ralph found himself pleading for satisfying his curiosity. "Tell me about... about us and his family. Please."

She paused for a long while. "It was a chaos at that time," she mused. "Your father wanted a divorce, he couldn't stand living with such a drunken wife, and he was worried about Jack. I came when he needed me and things screwed up from there. She loved you, of course. After you were born she stopped drinking and divorced your father. Your father thought it was okay to leave Jack's custody with her, since he thought it was better for a child to be with his mother.

"She accepted us with open arms and you two became closer than ever. Anyways, sometime when you're four or five she started to drink again. Jack, poor little boy, knew this even in such a young age. She hit me and I decided not to let her go near you again." Gabrielle felt tears streaming down her cheeks, and she could feel Ralph patted her shoulder in sympathy. "He's my... me and your father's biggest failure."

"What is?"

"Saving him. I remember I hit him, but it was accidental. I was going to hit her but suddenly she pulled Jack towards her so I... I hit him, hard. I was a bit drunk myself, and told him not to go near us again. I don't know what made me say that but I couldn't forget his face afterwards."

Ralph pulled her into a hug and decided to write to Jack later. He wanted to explain everything. Maybe that could lessen Jack's hatred.

A sound of a phone ringing made the mother and son jumped from their seats. "I'll take it," Ralph said, giving her a chance to compose herself.

"Good morning, Ralph Merridew speaking."

The sound which answered him was distant. "Ralph? It's me."

"Jack? What is it?"

"Something happened," the redhead said. "I think y'all are stuck with me."

* * *

A/N: Actually I wanna have the epilogue merged into one, but decided not to. It'd be too long in here. Besides it'd make a better epilogue than if I keep it into a separate part. :D It'll be posted around Sunday!


	21. Remembering the Loss of Innocence

_Epilogue: Remembering the Loss of Innocence_

* * *

_Fifteen Years Later..._

A young man, nearing his thirties, was walking in the small park. His green eyes blinked behind his glasses as he found the small crowd which was surely waiting for him. He approached them, an unsure smile on his face.

"Look who's coming!" a man said from the crowd. He stood and shook the young man's hand. It was obvious that he was nervous. "Nice to see you again, Ralph."

"Robert," Ralph finally could say the name. "How's life?"

It was strange, and slightly eerie, as Ralph stood there staring at the grown face of a youth savage. Robert didn't change. His face stayed the same, his eyes held the same unspeakable thing all of them had. Ralph hoped his love towards children stayed as well.

"I'm a teacher," he said. "I love the job. After I was out my therapy, well… I went to college and ended up teaching. My therapist told me to get closer to children, and I love it."

"Great," Ralph smiled at him, melting the tension between them.

The crowd stood and shook Ralph's hands as well. Bill, Maurice and Henry looked almost scared as they tried to make conversation with Ralph. They didn't exactly say they were sorry, but Ralph knew he didn't need to torment them anymore. They had lived with their own guilt and self-hatred, and that was enough for Ralph.

All of them had gone into therapy, and it was good to see that they had matured, had changed. Not all of them had good jobs, like Rupert and Michael and Bill who were still struggling with their lives and unemployment. But they could stand on their feet without the past haunting them, and that was the most important thing.

"Where's Jack?" Percival, who had grown up to be a quite well-known stage director, asked. "I don't see him."

Ralph lifted his eyebrow at the mention of his brother. He didn't see the redhead either. After he and Ralph graduated from college, he decided to move out, much to the entire house's dismay. It wasn't perfect, Jack's relationship with his father and Ralph's mother. But Jack was stubborn, and he knew he could work things out. And when Jack knew he could do something, he could do it.

After a year, Ralph moved out as well. Jack taught a group of choirboys and Ralph had his own library. He had met Sam, who had become a writer, in the library. The boy had changed. His face wasn't recognisable as the littleun who did the fire-watching anymore. They were friends in a matter of months, and Eric, who apparently had separated from his twin for some time, joined in as well. Eric worked as a fire-fighter. It was ironic, remembering that Ralph was the one who had been quite obsessed with fire.

"Sorry, I'm late." Jack suddenly appeared from nowhere. He was smiling secretly. "Those brats need more teaching, it seems. What did I miss?"

"We're just arrived as well," Piers, the scientist, said respectfully. And even Jack wasn't their chief anymore, and neither did Ralph, they still looked up at them. "What d'you want to show us?"

Jack tilted his head towards a certain direction. Five people were walking towards them, carrying a stone monument in their hands. "I talked to the mayor yesterday," he said. "I told him about us. And he agreed if we put this here."

The other men stared at the stone monument in shock. It was tall, and on top of it, there was a pig's head on a stick, surrounded by four boys at the each side of the monument. They recognised the boys instantly.

"Simon!" Percival almost squeaked in shock, which was odd, since he wasn't a child anymore. The Simon statue smiled kindly at him, the sculptor could capture his expression so greatly Percival suspected the sculptor had seen Simon before.

"Piggy," Ralph whispered. The Piggy statue was carrying a stick, a conch near his feet. Above the conch were his specs, and Ralph reached out to touch it. One of the lens was made broken, and the blond could feel the 'cracks' with his fingers.

Even in the age of middle twenties, Samneric still completed each other's words. "That—"

"Marked—"

"Boy!"

"It's Donald," Jack corrected. He knew how much Donald hated his mark. The mark was visible on the boy's face, the dreamy expression much more apparent than one on Simon's. On his shoulder was a small miniature of the dead parachuter.

"Oh, Roger!" the 'littleuns' gasped. Although only a statue, it still had a frightening aura for all of them, and Jack knew it. The grey Roger was standing proudly, hand gripping a spear and mouth slightly open, as if he were singing.

"Read this!" Maurice said, pointing at the words below.

The men crowded the monument, wanting to read them as soon as possible. Jack and Ralph chuckled. It was funny to see grownups like them acting like little kids. But after a while, they backed off. Harold glanced nervously at Jack.

"How did you get Piggy's real name?" the now-chef asked.

Ralph decided to answer him. "I found his auntie," he said, repositioning his glasses.

* * *

_"Miss Matilda Grayson?"_

_"Hello, dearie!" a cheerful, plump woman stood from her chair behind the cashier machine. Ralph smiled weakly at her. "Come on, you surely need more candies, with that scrawny body of yours. Listen, I just made some new... what d'you call it?... inventions! You won't regret it, I assure you."_

_"I don't like candies," Ralph said. "My name is Ralph, Ralph Merridew. I'm here to tell you about... about... Piggy."_

_"Don't call him that," she put her hand on her hips. Unlike her nephew, she looked quite threatening, despite of her fat body. "Now tell me what's going on with him. He's still safe in the village, yes? I really miss him, but I know he'll be okay."_

_"Something... something happened to him." Ralph started to sob._

_"What is it?" her tone softened instantly._

_"He... he died."_

_With that Ralph broke down crying._

* * *

"She died a year later. It broke her deeply. She didn't have anyone else but Piggy. His father died before he was born, and his mother was nowhere to be known, so he lived with her all the time."

Jack squeezed his shoulder brotherly and continued. His tone was slightly sarcastic. "She took the news surprisingly well. She knew something was happening when she hasn't gotten any mails from him. But being a loving auntie she was, she didn't try to write and contact him."

Henry suddenly stepped forward. The man looked at Jack's deep blue eyes and Ralph's green ones. "Chiefs," he said to the brothers. "I keep this. I keep this all this time."

He pulled out Piggy's broken specs from his pocket. All of them stared at him with surprise. But Jack broke the tension by his wild grin. "Great!" he said. He grabbed the specs and ran toward the monument, where Piggy's statue had been, exactly under Piggy's name. He squatted in front of it and clawed at the soil.

It took the others a while to realise what the redhead was doing. Stanley rushed forward and helped him digging the soil as well. When a small hole was formed, Jack gave the specs to Ralph.

"You're his friend," he said shortly.

Ralph blinked in confusion. But understanding hit him suddenly and he stepped forward and knelt in front of the hole. He felt like crying, and tears slowly made their way down his cheeks. "Goodbye, Piggy," he sobbed softly. "Goodbye, everyone."

As he said that, he lowered the specs and buried it under the warm soil. He looked at the names on each side of the monument before stood. He patted the stone and everyone followed his action. Jack cleared his throat, rather awkwardly.

"Maybe… we can continue this somewhere else?"

The men grinned at him, although many of them forced the supposedly happy expression. And as they made their way together, away from the monument and out of the park, all of them had known that they were forgiven. The island was merely a past, and they were ready to start their future. If they could, together.

The cloud covered the sun, making the statues and words on the monument darker, as if reminding the viewers about the grim island.

REMEMBERING THE LOSS OF INNOCENCE

DONALD TERRENCE PRITCHARD (February 29, 1944 – 1953)

SIMON MORGAN LEWENDEN (November 4, 1943 – 1954)

JOHN HOWARD "PIGGY" GRAYSON (June 1, 1942 – September 17, 1954)

ROGER ETHAN CARTER (May 8, 1941 – September 17, 1954)

**FIN.**

* * *

A/N: THE REAL END, GUYS! Whoa I never thought I'd finish this one! :')

I know this story isn't perfect, and I still need to learn much, but I hope you like it! I don't really like grim ending, so I give you a nice one. I hope you like their names, tho! Simon Lewenden is actually an inside joke between me and KSBG, who maybe will like this XD

Thank you, thank you, thank you for everyone who has stuck with me from the start! And for the ones who reviewed and faved and alerted! I love all of you! :)

If I can persuade (and bribe XD) my friend I'll have the essay up sometime! And my own backstory about this story as well. :D

Love,

Seer M. Anno


	22. Author's Note, The Essay, and Spoilers

BACKSTORY (Spoiler Alert!):

The reason why I wrote this backstory is because I realise that this is my first multi-chaptered (more than 10 chaps) fic which is complete. So let's say I want to celebrate. If you don't want to read this, it's okay. Just hit the back/exit button and forget this A/N exists. Alright, on with the story.

It started out quite simple, actually. I was watching this 63!Jack/Ralph fanvid (the one which had used _All I Want is You – Juno Theme Song_, and it's one of my favourites) and the inspiration hit me.

The very first part of the video showed me Ralph in his uniform and a shirtless Jack in the forest, and I was like "What if Ralph showed up after Jack and his friends had been a savage for sometime?"

I really thought that. _In the middle of a Jalph fanvid._

Like _A Choir Robe and Nightmares_ (my first Jalph—and LOTF—fic), I wanted to make a story which didn't really stray from the canon, but with my own words and plots. With those thoughts, _New, Civilised, Savage_ was born sometime around August, and finished in the end of September.

At first, I wanted it to be only Ralph (Piggy and Percival had been on the island) who got stranded later, but I changed the plot because I wasn't sure if Piggy survived without our dear chief. And Percival, he appeared in the last minute I wrote the first chapter. I read somewhere that he was a symbol of the littleuns, so I added him as well. Besides, I wasn't sure if Ralph could 'survive' alone in his civility. If you want to go against me in this, just read the end of the book.

At first, I didn't want to make Ralph and Jack stepbrothers, so it'd be more like the bookish way, which was my first intention. I only wanted to make Jack the Chief and Ralph wanted to fix everything, and then they would come to a sort of understanding. Believe me I do.

And d'you know what? At first this was going to be another Jalph fic. But somehow I wanted this to be a gen story so everyone could read.

But why I didn't do that? Well, I somehow realised that it'd make a too simple plot, and I didn't know how to end it or to add more conflict. I wasn't sure how to handle it. I don't want to put this story into another hiatus because I went bored or something.

So, the final result was the one you just read.

No, I don't hate Roger. I'm scared of him, yes, but I don't hate him. He was the biggest possibility for being the 'bad guy' (because he's one in canon) and because I knew he was the only one who could bring Jack down if Ralph were dead at the end of the book.

About Jack-In-The-Box (nice name, Terrodactyl!), I was thinking of how my inner Jack Merridew fangirl told me I should make our C# boy an almost protagonist, just because I love him. What a reason *shameless*.

I wanted a _power struggle_ between the two chiefs (just like the canon), but not between Jack and Ralph, because newcomers can't lead an old group all of sudden, right? So I made it Jack vs. Roger instead, and the best way I could think about their power struggle was to make one of them good, or at least better than the other.

I hope both Jack and Roger were enough in character. Maybe it's only me, but I still think Jack Merridew and Draco Malfoy are quite the same. That's why I wrote Jack almost in the same way I wrote Draco.

Y'know, I was going to give up on this story when I was in the progress of writing Ch.11. I didn't have any idea after Simon died and Jack was out the cave. But Jack, like a newly free kid in Ch.10, slowly went savage in my heart, as well as Ralph and the others, and somehow they were demanding me. I knew I couldn't add this story to my hiatus list. I didn't want to see another story as my failure. So I pushed myself to continue, even when it meant writing on my dad's laptop 'till 3:30 AM in the morning.

At first this story was beta'd, at least the first 9 chaps had been beta read. My beta reader was our dear Nightkill, who I 'met' in her LOTF Movie Parodies. But for the rest of the chapters wasn't beta read, because we all have a life, y'know, and apparently hers was too busy these days. I really thank her, though. If she's not really busy anymore I'd send her the rest of the chaps.

I knew there were quite many people who read this story, judging from the views (more than 1,000! Thanks everyone!), but there were so few reviews and at first nobody faved/alerted it. It discouraged me a bit, but I didn't think I should stop only because of that. People would notice this piece of writing eventually, and they did.

Last, lemme tell you something. The happiest thing of being a writer, for me, is when you sit back and realised that whatever you write is finally complete. I was elated when I clicked the button 'COMPLETE' in Manage Stories options. Maybe some people will call me childish or stuff, but that was true.

* * *

Thanks for reading 'till this point!

Enough ramblings, Seer! Time for the essay! My bribery turned out quite useful, because my dear friend agreed to give me some parts of her essay. I translated it myself, and there probably would be some questions that aren't in your dictionary, and for that I apologise for the errors and whatnot. :)

**Let me remind you that this essay is NOT a guide for you to understand my story, because everyone has their own interpretations as well as my friend does.**

My friend wasn't really reviewing this story, but I took it as a review anyway. Thanks, dear.

STORY: New, Civilised, Savage by Seer M. Anno (seerstella)

NOTE: a Lord of the Flies fanfiction

Why did you choose this story? Explain.

First of all, I'm a new Lord of the Flies fan (just read the eBook and is going to watch the movies in YouTube), and I want to look for some stories that aren't really AU but not a canon-like either. I stumbled on this story (at that time this was still around Chapter 2 or 3) and found myself liking it. I mean _really_ liking it. I know Seer, she's one of my old friends, so I asked her about choosing this story and she decided to give me some new chapters once she was done.

What was the story about? Explain in at least five sentences or more.

(Seer's Note: We all know this, so yeah)

Explain the main characters in some words.

Ralph: a very civil person, believes greatly in 'rights for everyone'.

Piggy: wise, dependent, (supposedly) smart, nostalgic (always tells stories about his days in the candy shop), a good storyteller.

Roger: the latter chief, evil, secretive, a quiet boy who enjoys torturing.

Jack: the former chief, haughty, sarcastic, protective, a great singer, a better chief than Roger.

Percival: approval-seeker, follower, actually is a loyal friend.

Simon: the weird kid in the lot, sees things from another perspective, doesn't believe in the beast, a bit sneaky.

What did you like and dislike from this story? (I count this part as a review)

I really like how the story flows. I like how the author made the symbolism on her own, but not really losing the original touches as well.

For example, she didn't use the conch, but Piggy could still shout (before he died) about not wanting the others to keep being savages. Instead of telling them he had the conch which meant only he could talk, he told them that the [littleuns] had the 'rights to keep their opinions', and implied that he had a 'right to talk' as well. That actually is one of my favourite parts, although Piggy died afterwards.

However, I don't really like the fact that Jack and Ralph are stepbrothers. That ruined my mood when I was reading. I didn't see that coming, even after Ralph recognised Jack's knife and recognised Jack's songs. I just can't take it. Despite that, and some errors, it's still a wonderful story, and I really love how the author ends it.

Who are your most and least favourite characters and why?

My favourite character is actually Simon. I really like how he tried to stay civil despite of the bizarreness of his surroundings.

My least favourite character is Piggy. No, I like canon!Piggy, but what I hate from this story is how the author made Piggy looked almost stupid. He practically couldn't say anything right, and always said 'my auntie would call it as...'. That irked me.

(Seer's Note: there are some questions, but The Essayer didn't want to send it).

Essayer's Notes (for additional scores):

The author has made some 'symbolism', which I've read and interpreted on my own. Which are:

1. Simon's wearing Ralph's school jacket until he died (Ch. 10):

_"Per-Percival... am... am I look... like a schoolboy?"_

_Percival gaped at the sudden change of topic but Simon's hopeful smile made him nod vigorously. The boy knew how much Simon wanted to look civil, despite of his atrocious face paints. "Yes! Yes! You're the best school boy in the best school!"_

Simon was the only one who didn't hunt (his age wasn't too young to be a littleun) because he 'fainted all the time' (Ch.3). That didn't make him a real savage, although his face was painted. Like we all know, he didn't like being face-painted, but it was a must so he obliged.

He wore Ralph's school jacket, which reminded him of his school. School is where people are taught to be civil. I took it as someone keeps trying to keep civil (or sane) although his surroundings does not.

2. Simon's reciting Percival's address (Ch.10):

_Simon grinned at the childish remark. "Th-thanks. You're... my friend, Percival... Wemys... Madison. Th-the Vicarage, Harcourt St. An-Anthony, H-Hants..."_

Simon wanted Percival to keep being civil, even after he was gone. Civility is a thing we should keep and remember. Sadly, Percival had forgotten it when he was rescued.

3. Simon and Percival were 'two excluded adventurers' and became friends (Ch.3):

_Percival and Simon were two excluded adventurers. Both of them were outsiders, and Percival couldn't get along with kids his own age, since he was new and still civilised…_

_Simon was 'barmy'. Nobody could understand him. He always saw things from other perspective, and for that Roger couldn't stand him…_

Simon was sneaky. He really was. He knew nobody believed him. And then there were three newcomers, who didn't know anything. He knew he could make Percival believe that there was no beast, and maybe he could tell him that it was Jack and they could release him. This showed me how much Simon wanted to be believed, because he was right all this time. And like the book, he died when he was going to tell everyone that it wasn't the beast (in here it was Jack). Poor Simon.

4. Jack's 'the Beast', the victim of jealousy (Ch.11):

_Jack knew Roger didn't like him, at least not like he used to. Both knew the Donald incident had shifted their friendship. He sensed a power struggle would emerge between the two of them. He wasn't afraid, though. He knew he had the boys behind his back, and was sure that Roger wouldn't stand a chance. He was their Chief, after all._

This is the centre of the power struggle, which is between Roger and Jack. Jack, being the confident chief, didn't really care. But he didn't know what was inside Roger's mind.

This showed me how someone would do everything to be the 'chief', the leader. Let alone a group of savages. Roger and Jack were best friends, and that friendship was gone once Roger 'killed' Jack and took away his power, which were symbolised by his knife, necklace, 'throne in the clearing', and Castle Rock.

5. Roger doesn't like to be doubted as Chief (Ch.8):

_Suddenly Roger was in front of him, his hands clutching on his battered shirt. "If you want to be rescued," Roger hissed. "Do what you want. But don't doubt me as a chief. Tell that fat slug that. I don't like being doubted." He stopped for a while. "I'm the _Chief_. I'll use that lard's glasses whenever I want."_

As we all know, Roger played dirty to be the chief, and he didn't like to be doubted, because he actually doubted himself. He merely became the Chief because Jack 'died'. He knew deep inside him, he actually wasn't a good chief because he played dirty to become one. This showed me that really bad things would haunt you forever, even when you have the power.

6. Percival Wemys Madison, the Savage (Ch.6)

_"What's your name?" the dark boy started, shouting loudly._

_Percival eyed him oddly. "Percival Wemys Madison. The Vicarage, Hartcourt St. Anthony..."_

_"SHUT UP!" all of them shrieked. Percival automatically closed his mouth in fright and surprise._

In this part, there was absolutely a forced savagery. Percival was forced to become a savage (to remember only his first name, because no savage remembers his address or surname, right?) and leave Ralph and Piggy (to join the hunters) and stopped being civil. Poor kid.

7. Forced Savageries (Ch.13-14):

_So, as the torture continued, Robert could do nothing but watch as the savagery was forced, again, into the not-so-innocent littleuns._ (Ch.14)

Another forced savagery.

8. Jack and Ralph are stepbrothers (Ch.14):

_"Yeah. So, what's your surname?"_

_"I can't really remember." Jack said slowly. "It starts with M. Meri something."_

_Ralph's eyes widened. "Merridew?"_

_Jack blinked in realisation. "That's it! How d'you know?"_

_Ralph was so shocked he almost couldn't speak. "B-because... it's mine."_

I didn't really understand why Seer did this. But she told me that she wanted to show the readers that the line between civility and savagery was a thin one. Civil people are easy to become a pack of savages, just like in the book.

9. Robert was a lousy 'hunter' (Ch.19):

_"How come you survived again?"_

_Jack frowned at the sudden change of topic, but he smirked afterwards. "That babysitter can't hold a spear at all. Lousy hunter, he is," he said. "I knew he didn't want to kill me, but seriously, my shoulder? And I wonder how he coped of being a hunter."_

For me, Robert had never been a true savage. Jack called him a 'babysitter', he took care of the littleuns, and he kept Ralph's secret about the rescue fire. He was underestimated, but it turned out he had saved the day by not killing Jack. Robert was an image of a mother, who would do anything for people he loved.

10. Jack hugged Ralph and used his tears to erase his face paints (Ch.18):

_Then, awkwardly, Jack circled his right arm around the other boy and let his head rested against his right shoulder. Ralph gasped at the sudden comfort, but didn't resist. His tears came more and more, and Jack lifted, as much as he could, his left hand and brushed tears off Ralph's face. Then he brushed his own face, unconsciously erasing the face paints._

Jack wanted to change. He wanted to go back to innocence and civilisation and this is how the author represented it. Erased face paints means getting 'bloody civil' (Ch.15). I took it as how Jack regretted his mistakes and wanted to start over.

(Seer's Note: There are some more, but I leave it to your interpretations).

Alright, so the essay ends here. I never thought she would go this far. I love this so much. I hope you like it, and I can't say more thank you to my dear friend, who (sadly) wants to stay anon. If you want some deep 'learning' from this AU story, you can read it here, but if you merely want to read this for fun, just stop in Chapter 21. :)

* * *

Now is a time to thank everyone! Thanks for the:

REVIEWERS: The Unknown, wow, Guest, FadedSunset, 1800-peppermints, Terrodactyl, windsurfergirl, and the upcoming reviewers!

FAVERS: FadedSunset, and the upcoming favers! :D

ALERTERS (if that's a word after all XD): FadedSunset, Terrodactyl, mimikopi, and the upcoming alerters!

READERS: All people around the world who have read this! I love all of you!

Last… See you in another story!

Love,

Seer M. Anno


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